er. He kissed the sweet face of the
picture he had worn so long in his bosom, before he locked it away from
his sight, and dropped some tears, that were no dishonor to his manhood,
over the half dozen elegant little trifles she had given him, before he
committed them to the flames.

There was a nine days' wonder over Miss Harrison's sudden exodus. But her
aunt was a discreet woman, and it was generally understood that Margie
had taken advantage of the pause in the fashionable season to visit some
distant relatives, and if ever any one coupled her flight and the
departure of Castrani together, it was not made the subject of remark.
Alexandrine kept what she knew to herself, and of course Archer Trevlyn
did not proclaim his own desertion.

For a week, nearly, he managed to keep about, and at the end of that time
he called at Mrs. Lee's. He wanted to question Alexandrine a little
further. The idea possessed him that in some way she might be cognizant
of Margie's destination. And though he had given the girl up, he longed
desperately to know if she were happy. He had felt strangely giddy all
day, and the heat of Mrs. Lee's parlors operated unfavorably upon him. He
was sitting on a sofa conversing with that lady and her daughter, when
suddenly he put his hand to his forehead, and sank back, pale and
speechless.

In the wildest alarm, they called a physician, who put him to bed, and
enjoined the severest quiet. Mr. Trevlyn, he said, had received a severe
shock to his nervous system, and there was imminent danger of congestive
fever of the brain.

His fears were verified. Archer did not rally, and on the second day he
was delirious. Then the womanly nature of Alexandrine Lee came out and
asserted itself. She banished all attendants from the sick room, and took
sole charge herself of the sufferer. Not even her mother would she allow
to take her place. When tempted by intense weariness to resign her post,
she would take _that stained glove_ from her bosom, and the sight of it
would banish all thought of admitting a stranger.

"No," she said to herself, "people in delirium speak of their most
cherished secrets and he shall not criminate himself. It he did that
terrible deed, only I of all the world can bring a shadow of suspicion
against him, and the secret shall never be revealed to any other."

So she sat the long days and longer nights away, by the side of this man
she loved so hopelessly, bathing his fevered brow, holdi