o reason"--she drew herself up--"no reason why we
should not extend to Mr. Marmaduke Haward the hospitality of Westover."
She smiled and leaned against her father's arm. "And now let us
three,--you and Maria, whom I protest you keep too long at the
harpsichord, and I, who love this hour of the evening,--let us go walk in
the garden and see what flowers the frost has spared."

CHAPTER XXVI

SANCTUARY

"Child," demanded Haward, "why did you frighten me so?" He took her hands
from her face, and drew her from the shadow of the curtain into the
evening glow. Her hands lay passive in his; her eyes held the despair of a
runner spent and fallen, with the goal just in sight. "Would have had me
go again to the mountains for you, little maid?" Haward's voice trembled
with the delight of his ended quest.

"Call me not by that name," Audrey said. "One that is dead used it."

"I will call you love," he answered,--"my love, my dear love, my true
love!"

"Nor that either," she said, and caught her breath. "I know not why you
should speak to me so."

"What must I call you then?" he asked, with the smile still upon his lips.

"A stranger and a dreamer," she answered. "Go your ways, and I will go
mine."

There was silence in the room, broken by Haward. "For us two one path," he
said; "why, Audrey, Audrey, Audrey!" Suddenly he caught her in his arms.
"My love!" he whispered--"my love Audrey! my wife Audrey!" His kisses
rained upon her face. She lay quiet until the storm had passed; then freed
herself, looked at him, and shook her head.

"You killed him," she said, "that one whom I--worshiped. It was not well
done of you.... There was a dream I had last summer. I told it to--to the
one you killed. Now part of the dream has come true.... You never were!
Oh, death had been easy pain, for it had left memory, hope! But you never
were! you never were!"

"I am!" cried Haward ardently. "I am your lover! I am he who says to you,
Forget the past, forget and forgive, and come with me out of your
dreaming. Come, Audrey, come, come, from the dim woods into the
sunshine,--into the sunshine of the garden! The night you went away I was
there, Audrey, under the stars. The paths were deep in leaves, the flowers
dead and blackening; but the trees will be green again, and the flowers
bloom! When we are wed we will walk there, bringing the spring with us"--

"When we are wed!" she answered. "That will never be."

"It will be this week,"