ll, but they were aware of nothing but the song in their
hearts. What they said to each other they could not afterwards
remember at all. In the delicious, stumbling patois of love, so much
was said, and so much understood that was beyond their power to reduce
to mere syllables. Only, when at last they parted, a great weight had
been rolled from each heart.

For Harry had spoken freely, as soon as he found Yanna willing to
listen. All his burdens and temptations, his remorses, his resolutions,
and his inevitable slips again and again into sensual mire were
confessed; and in spite of all, he had been made to feel that life
still had the lustre of divine dignity around it, and of divine duty
before it. He left Adriana full of hope, and she stood a minute at
the door to listen to the clear ring of his steps on the pavement; for
steps are words, and Harry's steps were those of a man who has been
turned into the right road, confident and purposeful.

Then she ran lightly to her own room. She stood quiet there, with
clasped hands and radiant face, and told herself in so many audible
words: "He loves me yet! He loves me yet! Oh, fluttering heart, be
still! Be still!" And constantly, as she bathed her face and dressed
her hair and put on her evening gown, she chided herself as tenderly
as a mother the restless babe she loves, saying softly, "Be still! Be
still!" And she was lovelier that night than she had been for a long
time, for since her parting with Harry at Woodsome, her life had been
out of harmony; but now heart and life were in tune, and she could
live melodious days once more.

After leaving Adriana, Harry walked rapidly towards his home. He did
not think of calling a cab; there was a necessity for motion in his
condition, and walking is the natural tranquillizer of mental
agitation. He had not gone far before he met Antony Van Hoosen. Now,
the young men were still warm friends, though the exigencies of
society had kept them more apart than at first seemed necessary. But
Harry affected a set of young men outside of Antony's toleration; and
their social engagements very rarely brought them together. At this
hour, however, Harry was particularly delighted to meet Antony, and as
they were in the neighborhood of a good hotel, he urged him to enter.

"Let us dine together, Antony," he said. "I want to tell you something
particularly good--for me. I have just left Yanna."

Antony heard him with singular indifference. "H