om Lucile would like to ask, did she dare. So he did it upon his own
responsibility. And coming as a surprise, he knew it would be a great
joy to her.

Frona was taken aback by the suddenness of it. Only the other day, it
was, that Lucile had made a plea to her for St. Vincent, and now it was
Colonel Trethaway! True, there had been a false quantity somewhere,
but now it seemed doubly false. Could it be, after all, that Lucile
was mercenary? These thoughts crowded upon her swiftly, with the
colonel anxiously watching her face the while. She knew she must
answer quickly, yet was distracted by an involuntary admiration for his
bravery. So she followed, perforce, the lead of her heart, and
consented.

Yet the whole thing was rather strained when the four of them came
together, next day, in Captain Alexander's private office. There was a
gloomy chill about it. Lucile seemed ready to cry, and showed a
repressed perturbation quite unexpected of her; while, try as she
would, Frona could not call upon her usual sympathy to drive away the
coldness which obtruded intangibly between them. This, in turn, had a
consequent effect on Vance, and gave a certain distance to his manner
which forced him out of touch even with the colonel.

Colonel Trethaway seemed to have thrown twenty years off his erect
shoulders, and the discrepancy in the match which Frona had felt
vanished as she looked at him. "He has lived the years well," she
thought, and prompted mysteriously, almost with vague apprehension she
turned her eyes to Corliss. But if the groom had thrown off twenty
years, Vance was not a whit behind. Since their last meeting he had
sacrificed his brown moustache to the frost, and his smooth face,
smitten with health and vigor, looked uncommonly boyish; and yet,
withal, the naked upper lip advertised a stiffness and resolution
hitherto concealed. Furthermore, his features portrayed a growth, and
his eyes, which had been softly firm, were now firm with the added
harshness or hardness which is bred of coping with things and coping
quickly,--the stamp of executiveness which is pressed upon men who do,
and upon all men who do, whether they drive dogs, buck the sea, or
dictate the policies of empires.

When the simple ceremony was over, Frona kissed Lucile; but Lucile felt
that there was a subtle something wanting, and her eyes filled with
unshed tears. Trethaway, who had felt the aloofness from the start,
caught an oppor