to be flattered if
not won by the homage he pays me."

Then she sat down, and began looking into her heart again, her keen
vision penetrating to its farthest recesses. A long fluttering sigh
breathed at length through her lips, and starting up she said,

"I am weak and foolish! Life is a reality; not a cycle of dreamy
romance. All poetry lies in the dim distance--a thing of memory or
anticipation--the present is invariably prose. How these vague
ideals do haunt the mind! Love! Love! I had imagined something
deeper, purer, holier than anything stirring in my heart for Leon
Dexter! Was I deceived? Is the poet's song but jingling rhyme?--a
play of words in trancing measure? Let me bind back into quietude
these wildly leaping impulses, and clip the wings of these girlish
fancies. They lead not the soul to happiness in a world like ours."

Again her form drooped, and again she sat for a long period so lost
in the mazes of her own thoughts, that time and place receded alike
from her consciousness. Not until dinner-time did she join her aunt.
Her cousins had returned from school, and she met them as usual at
the table. Her exterior was carefully controlled, so that the only
change visible was a slight pallor and a graver aspect. Mrs. Loring
scrutinized her countenance closely. This she bore without a sign of
embarrassment. She partook but lightly of food. After the meal
closed she retired to her own room, once more to torture her brain
in a fruitless effort to solve this great problem of her life.

CHAPTER V.

WHEN Paul Hendrickson left the house of Mrs. Loring, his mind was in
a state of painful excitement. The inopportune appearance of Dexter
had so annoyed him, that he had found it impossible to assume the
easy, cheerful air of a visitor. He was conscious, therefore, of
having shown himself in the eyes of Miss Loring to very poor
advantage. Her manner at parting had, however, reassured him. As
they stood for a moment in the vestibule he saw her in a new light.
The aspect of her countenance was changed, the eyes, that fell
beneath his earnest gaze, burned with a softened light, and he read
there a volume of tender interest at a single glance.

"I shall be pleased to see you again, Mr. Hendrickson." There was
more than a parting compliment in her tones as she said these words.
"I have never thought you stupid." What pleasure he derived from
repeating these sentences over and over again! Early in the evening
he