“And I... oh, my dear little girl, I worship you. You have known — you must have known, but I want to tell you. And you love me! It can’t be true. Tell me.”

“I love you,” said Lila. And, oh, the curve of her lips and the light in her eyes and the clinging warmth of her arms!

Knowlton kissed her hair, saying:

“And see! You are my little girl.” He picked her up in his arms and carried her to a chair, then knelt before her, muttering, “My little girl!” over and over. He was intoxicated.

Lila’s eyes were swimming in tears of happiness. She stroked his hair and pronounced his name with a delightful shyness and made him tell her how long he had loved her.

He said, “Always,” and got his reward at once.

There was a long silence, while they gazed into each other’s eyes. Then Lila, happening to glance up, sighed and pointed to the trunk.

“And now, what about that?”

Knowlton turned sharply — and awoke. He sprang to his feet.

“My God! I had forgotten! And this — this is madness! Ah! You do not know — and I am a coward.”

Lila said simply:

“I know everything.”

Knowlton stared at her.

“Mr. Dumain told me why you were going away,” she continued. “Did you think I did not know? And I... I have been waiting for you to tell me—” She stopped, coloring.

Knowlton suppressed a groan of anguish and forced himself to speak. The words choked him.

“I am a counterfeiter.”

“I know it,” Lila smiled.

Still Knowlton could not believe, or would not accept. His hands opened and closed convulsively, his breath came in quick gasps, and his eyes were narrowed with misery. Again he forced himself to speak, and the words came with a painful pause between them.

“But — you don’t — understand. I am — a criminal. I am running away.”

Lila shivered involuntarily at the word, but the smile did not leave her face as she said:

“I love you.”

Then Knowlton burst forth:

“But, Lila, you do not know all! Ever since the day — the first time I was with you, I have been straight. And Heaven knows I have tried to make it up. But you humiliate me — you ask me nothing! Do you think there is no explanation? You do not even ask me why!”

“I guess there is no ‘why’ in love,” said Lila.

“But there is in — the other thing.” Knowlton drew nearer to her and spoke slowly and earnestly. “Do you remember I told you last night that I wanted to ask you something today? Well — I was going to ask you to marry me. I would have done that, and I would have kept my secret. But now that you know some of it you must know all.”

“No,” said Lila, “not that. Of the future, perhaps, but not of the past. What does it all matter now?”

But Knowlton insisted.

“Yes, I must. I want you to know it. It is not that I would give excuses; there can be none. But you must know my weakness and folly, and then if you can trust me—”

He paced the floor nervously as he continued:

“In the first place, my name is not Knowlton. It is John Norton. My father is the wealthiest citizen of a town named Warton, in Ohio. I am his only child. My mother died ten years ago.

“My father made his money in the manufacturing business, and he earned every cent of it. All his life he has worked like a slave. I can remember, when I was a little chap, how he used to come home late at night completely exhausted, and come to my room to kiss me good night. He would always reply to my mother’s expostulations with the words, ‘It is for him.’

“He wanted me to be a gentleman — in a certain sense of the word — and I was perfectly willing. Still I was not lazy. I studied hard at college, and made as good a showing in the classroom as I did on the athletic field.

“After graduation I made a two years’ tour of the world, and at the age of twenty-four returned to Warton with a somewhat exaggerated idea of my attainments and accomplishments and a varied assortment of opinions and theories.”

Lila was bending forward to listen, with parted lips and glowing eyes. Knowlton stopped pacing the floor and stood in front of her.

“But my father was by no means a fool. Although it was his dearest wish that his wealth should prevent my toiling and laboring as he had done, he did not intend that I should live a life of idleness. He had at first been desirous that I should enter a profession, but, seeing that I was unsuited for either the law or medicine, he left it to my own choice.

“I chose banking, and he was delighted, declaring that nothing could please him better. He owned a portion of the stock of the Warton National Bank, and I was at once placed in its offices. At the end of six months I was made cashier, and at the end of the year a vice president.

“Of course I deserved no credit for my success, for the work was pleasing to me and everything was made easy for me. But my father was highly gratified, and, saying that my future was assured, began to press me on a point which had for some months been a bone of contention between us.”

“He wanted you to marry some one,” Lila said abruptly.

Knowlton gazed at her in amazement. “How in the name of—”

“I don’t know,” Lila smiled. “I seemed to feel it. You see now that you have no chance to keep anything from me. Who... who was she?”

Knowlton’s eyes were still filled with surprise as he continued:

“A Miss Sherman. She was the daughter of a very old friend of my father’s, and our parents had decided long before that we should marry when we had reached a proper age. But, though I had no particular objection to her, still I did not care for her, and was certainly anything but an ardent wooer. My father had often complained to me on account of my lack of appreciation of her charms.”

“What was she like?” Lila demanded.

“Oh, like any girl! She had hair, and eyes—”

“Like me?”

“There is no one in the world like you,” Knowlton declared, but as Lila started to rise he protested:

“No — please — let me finish. When I was elected vice president of the bank my father began to insist that I should marry at once. I demurred. We had many hot discussions on the subject, and it ended by my refusing pointblank to marry Miss Sherman at all.

“Naturally, he was disappointed and angry, but if it had not been for Miss Sherman herself the thing would have soon blown over. She developed an unexpected obstinacy, and declared that I was bound by the agreement made with her father, who had been dead for several years.

“To make matters worse, about this time she received a visit from her brother. This brother had some years before been driven out of Warton on account of some youthful indiscretion, and he had left behind him an exceedingly unsavory reputation. He had gone East — it was said to New York — and had not been heard of for some time until he suddenly put in an appearance at the time I mention.

“He immediately began to threaten me with all sorts of calamities and disasters if I did not marry Miss Sherman. I don’t know whether this was with his sister’s cognizance and approval or not; I doubt it, for she would hardly have so demeaned herself.

“Sherman acted like a sneak. I never once saw him, but he pestered me with letters and messages until I had about decided either to thrash him soundly or have recourse to the courts.”

Lila interrupted eagerly:

“This man — Mr. Sherman — her brother — was he—”

“The same as Mr. Sherman of the Erring Knights? I think so; in fact, I am pretty positive of it, though, as I say, I never saw him in Warton. But he recognized me the first time he saw me at the Lamartine, so there is little doubt of it.”

He resumed his narrative, while Lila’s interest was so intense that she scarcely breathed.

“This went on for two or three months. My father had come over to my side unconditionally. Miss Sherman had prepared to enter a suit for breach of promise, and her brother was making himself as obnoxious as possible. He spread stories concerning me all over the town, and did everything that could suggest itself to his mind — in the dark.

“One night — I shall never forget it — one Wednesday night I was at work in the bank alone. I had been away for the two or three days previous, and a great deal of work had accumulated during my absence. Also, we had that very day received a large shipment of currency from the East, and I had to check that and stow it away in the vault.

“I had just completed this task, and had not yet closed the vault — it was about eleven o’clock — when I heard some one pounding on the outer door. I called out, asking who it was, and heard in a woman’s voice a name which astonished me: ‘Alma Sherman.’

“Not knowing what else to do, I opened the door, drawing the heavy steel bolts, and she entered. Before I had time to speak or move she seized me by the arm and drew me over to a private room on the left. ‘Wait,’ I said, ‘I must close the door.’

“But she would not let me go. She seemed half insane, clinging to me and entreating — well, I can’t tell you what she said. In fact, the whole thing is in my memory as a nightmare, indistinct and horrible.

“I don’t know what I was thinking of, not to have insisted on going back to close the door, but she must have carried me completely off my feet.

“Gradually she became calmer, but still was unable to tell me what she had come for or indeed to speak intelligently at all. I had begun to think she was really out of her mind, when she suddenly sprang to the door and disappeared as mysteriously as she had come.

“I looked for her through the window, but the night was very dark and I could see nothing. She had been with me, I think, about twenty minutes.