eyes. His stalwart figure drooped a little with an expression of defeat. Anne Bradford glanced up at him, and a look of pity softened the merry determination of her face.
"I can't do it, Howard," she said softly. "It would spoil my whole life."
"Tell me why," he demanded, with an impatient shake of his head that brought a lock of hair down over his forehead.
"I haven't time," answered the girl mischievously.
"The steamer doesn't start for fifteen minutes," he groaned.
"I mean that I haven't time to take care of you. I am too busy."
"I won't waste your time."
"But I am serious. This is no laughing matter," said the girl reprovingly.
"I had an idea that you thought it was," he muttered.
"I have my work to do, the work that I have wanted ever since I was a little girl. I have spent five years here in getting ready for it. Now I wish to go back to
