do not know if Captain
Harmon had any relatives or even where his home was, and it was his
own ship in which he sailed. Father would be glad to think that Frank
Harmon was dead, but he does not think he is. He says he was always a
fickle-minded fellow, one fancy driving another out of his mind. Oh, I
can bear my own misery--but to think what I have brought on you! I
never dreamed that you could care for me. I was so lonely and your
friendship was so pleasant--can you ever forgive me?"

"There is nothing to forgive, as far as you are concerned, Lynde,"
said Alan steadily. "You have done me no wrong. I have loved you
sincerely and such love can be nothing but a blessing to me. I only
wish that I could help you. It wrings my heart to think of your
position. But I can do nothing--nothing. I must not even come here any
more. You understand that?"

"Yes."

There was an unconscious revelation in the girl's mournful eyes as she
turned them on Alan. It thrilled him to the core of his being. She
loved him. If it were not for that empty marriage form, he could win
her, but the knowledge was only an added mocking torment. Alan had not
known a man could endure such misery and live. A score of wild
questions rushed to his lips but he crushed them back for Lynde's sake
and held out his hand.

"Good-bye, dear," he said almost steadily, daring to say no more lest
he should say too much.

"Good-bye," Lynde answered faintly.

When he had gone she flung herself down on the moss by the spring and
lay there in an utter abandonment of misery and desolation.

Pain and indignation struggled for mastery in Alan's stormy soul as he
walked homeward. So this was Captain Anthony's doings! He had
sacrificed his daughter to some crime of his dubious past. Alan never
dreamed of blaming Lynde for having kept her marriage a secret; he put
the blame where it belonged--on the Captain's shoulders. Captain
Anthony had never warned him by so much as a hint that Lynde was not
free to be won. It had all probably seemed a good joke to him. Alan
thought the furtive amusement he had so often detected in the
Captain's eyes was explained now.

He found Elder Trewin in his study when he got home. The good Elder's
face was stern and anxious; he had called on a distasteful errand--to
tell the young minister of the scandal his intimacy with the Four
Winds people was making in the congregation and remonstrate with him
concerning it. Alan listened absently, wit