him so." And that night Anna again wept and prayed for
Malcolm--her dearest brother, as she called him--for deep down in her
girlish heart there was buried the pure virginal love that she had
unconsciously given him--a love that no touch or breath would ever wake
into life now.

Malcolm was very repentant for days over his unkind speech, and on
Christmas Eve, when he paid his next visit, he brought Anna a
peace-offering in the shape of a valuable proof engraving of a picture
she had long coveted. Malcolm had had it beautifully framed. Anna was
enchanted with the gift, but Mrs. Herrick privately called her son to
account for his extravagance.

"There was no need to make Anna such an expensive present," she said
seriously. "You must have paid twenty guineas for that engraving. You
are too lavish in your generosity. She would be quite satisfied with
some pretty trifle."

"I am quite sure of that," he returned; "but it is such a pleasure to
give her things. Indeed, mother," as Mrs. Herrick still looked grave,
"I can well afford it. I have more money than I know how to spend, and
as I am not likely to marry, I see no good in hoarding."

Malcolm was right in saying that his income was too large for a
bachelor, for in addition to the salary he drew from his literary post,
his mother insisted on making him a handsome allowance, and every
quarter day a large sum was placed to his account at his banker's,
which Malcolm rarely touched.

"You are my only son, and there will be plenty for you when I die," she
had said to him; "and Anna shall have her share too. Your father was a
rich man, Malcolm, and there is no need for you to work unless you wish
to do so;" but Malcolm soon convinced her that an idle life was not to
his taste.

Just after the new year Malcolm received rather a reproachful letter
from Mrs. Godfrey, accusing him of forgetting their existence.

"Of course you will say you are busy," she wrote, "but I do not mean to
accept that excuse. You can spend a quiet Sunday with us as well as at
Oxford, and I beg to remind you that I am an older friend than Dinah
Templeton." Then Malcolm somewhat reluctantly made up his mind to
accept the invitation for the following Saturday, although he was
hardly in the mood for his old friend's lively talk.

To his surprise his genial hostess received him rather gravely, and it
struck him at once that her cheerfulness was a little forced, and with
the familiarity of their intima