gy, greedy and devouring. It was a
continual, nagging contention between self-abasement and hostility. It
was a humiliating attempt on the part of a man to barter something,
which was persistently undervalued, for the feminine equivalent which
was as persistently hoarded. It was an amalgam of physical yearning,
wounded vanity and resentment of contempt. It was egotism masquerading
as altruism. It was a dancing bear lumbering at the heels of insanity.
Of all the passions it was the most hypocritical--a snare-setter, a
digger of pitfalls, an enemy disguised as one's dearest friend. He
thanked God there was no hint of love in his new-found friendship. Like
an outcast fleeing from a storm, he had blundered against the door of
this woman's charity, had felt it yield beneath his touch, and had found
himself immersed in the blessedness of instant and unmerited rest.

Lazily he commenced to dress. From his window he could see the Castle,
perched grave and gray against the forehead of the clouds. He wondered
whether she was up, how she was occupying herself, whether she was
expecting him? He listened to her voice in the silence of his brain,
like the far-away singing of contralto bells. He saw her still face, her
slow smiling, the proud, sweet stateliness of her pacing steps. Then his
thoughts went back to whether he was expected.

If he were not---- The thought chilled him. She had said nothing to
encourage him to seek her afresh. What if his reappearance should cause
her embarrassment--an embarrassment which she would betray by
withholding herself? It was quite likely she would impute to him wrong
motives. Already she might have repented of intimacies she had allowed.
He had placed his arm about her. With the injustice of most women,
though she had permitted it, she might be blaming him because the act
had been witnessed by Terry. Terry of all persons! Having had time to
reflect, she might be accusing him of gallantries. It was not so long
since she had confused him with Adair. From her untypical knowledge of
him she was entitled to estimate him as the kind of man to whom
promiscuous caresses were a practice. He turned coward at the
recollection of his daring. Last night it had been so involuntary and
had seemed so natural. Why had he done it? Why had she allowed it? It
had been the liberty of a plow-boy with a village-girl. There would be
little room for wonder if, when next they met, she fixed a No Man's Land
of pride betwe