cup of
coffee and left the house. At the stables he got a horse and buggy,
and drove over to Miss Alida's. He met Harry just outside the gate,
and he called him.

"I was trying to catch the early train," explained Harry. "Is anything
wrong? Why are you here before seven o'clock?"

"Come with me. I have something to say to you, Harry."

Then Harry sent back his own buggy, and seated himself beside Antony.
"Where are you going?" he asked; "there is no station up this road."

"It is quiet. That is enough. Listen, Harry." Then he gave his friend
and brother a brief outline of the life he had led, and of Rose's
behavior on the previous night. He made few complaints, he merely
stated facts; but Harry understood what was not told.

"She says she hates me. She never wants to see my face again. She
never wants to hear me speak to her more. I think my presence
irritates her and makes her cross and cruel. I am going to my place in
the Harqua Hala Range. I ought to have been there long ago. They are
finding gold there. When Rose is sorry, you will let me know?"

He was quietly weeping, and not at all conscious of the circumstance;
and Harry was burning with anger at his wrongs. "It was a bad day for
you, Antony, when the Filmers came into your life," he said. "You have
flung your love away on Rose, and your gold away on me. I do not know
what I shall do without you. You are the greatest soul I ever met. Do
not go away, Antony!"

"There is nothing else to be done. I have worn out her patience, and
she has worn out mine. Be kind to her; and when you have an
opportunity, say a kind word for me."

Far into the morning they talked, and then Antony drove to the
station, and went his lonely way, too miserable to think of adieus,
too ashamed and heart-broken to bear more, either of advice or
consolation. Harry watched his thin, sorrowful face out of sight; and
at the last moment lifted his hat to so much departing love and worth.
Then he drove as fast as his horse could take him to the Filmer
place.

Rose had awakened from her sleep, and had had her breakfast. She was
miserable in all her being. Her head ached; her heart ached. She was
humiliated and chagrined, and the thought of Antony haunted her and
would not let her rest. Also the house was miserable. Everything was
waiting on Antony. Some of the things to be taken to the city were
already packed; others were lying on the chairs and tables, and the
servants were each and a