me—and I wondered at it. However, had Madeleine lived, and had I thought I was growing fond of you, I should have given up the studio, and put you out of my life. I owed her that. But now she is dead, and while convention should make me keep silent, for a time at least, I waive convention and I tell you that I love you. Not as Tommy Locke, hut as Andrew Barham, I love you, and after a time, I want to make you my wife. What is your answer, Pearl—little Pearl?”
“There can be but one answer,” she returned, tears in her lovely eyes. “I love you, you, whoever you are, or whatever your name is. I am so overcome at what you have told me—I am so bewildered—I can’t seem to think it all out yet. But one thing I know—I love you and I’m glad—glad you love me.”
And then she was in his arms, sobbing out all her bewilderment and surprise on his breast.
“Darling,” he said, “I do love you with all my heart and soul. And the time will come—some day, when I shall proudly claim you for my wife, and gladly take you into my heart and home openly. But for the present—for your sake as well as my own, we must keep our love a secret.”
“Of course—it is the only thing to do. And—and maybe you will change your mind”
“Don’t, darling, don’t say such things. You are the love of my life. I never cared for Madeleine as I love you—you dear, sweet little thing! She was a lovely woman and a beautiful one. You are my little companion, my beloved child—my other self. We shall be happy together, both after we are married, and also before. We can be friends at once, and we can be more and more to each other as time goes on. I am yours now and forever, and though convention seems to make
