blindly along the path to the house,
and half lifted her up the steps to the door. They paused there for a
moment. At last he turned from her abruptly in silence. A step away he
halted.

"If you should ever need me--" "Never as now," she said.

She saw his tall figure pass down the path, and her straining eyes
followed until it was lost in the mild wide spaces of the night.

Another hot September sun was beating upon the earth as Betty galloped
down the lane and swung her horse's head in the direction of Raleigh.
Her grief had worn itself out and she carried a pale but resolute face.
Carrington was gone; she would keep her promise to Charley and he should
never know what his happiness had cost her. She nerved herself for their
meeting; somewhere between Belle Plain and Thicket Point Norton would be
waiting for her.

He joined her before she had covered a third of the distance that
separated the two plantations.

"Thank God, my darling!" he cried fervently, as he ranged up alongside
of her.

"Then you weren't sure of me, Charley?"

"No, I wasn't sure, Betty--but I hoped. I have been haunting the road
for more than an hour. You are making one poor unworthy devil happy,
unless--"

"Unless what, Charley?" she prompted.

"Unless you came here merely to tell me that after all you couldn't
marry me." He put out his hand and covered hers that held the reins.
"I'll never give you cause to regret it--you know how I love you, dear?"

"Yes, Charley--I know." She met his glance bravely.

"We are to go to the church. Mr. Bowen will be there; I arranged with
him last night; he will drive over with his wife and daughter, who will
be our witnesses, dear. We could have gone to his house, but I thought
it would seem more like a real wedding in a church, you know."

Betty did not answer him, her eyes were fixed straight ahead, the last
vestige of color had faded from her face and a deathly pallor was there.
This was the crowning horror. She felt the terrible injustice she was
doing the man at her side, the depth and sincerity of his devotion was
something for which she could make no return. Her lips trembled on the
verge of an avowal of her love for Carrington. Presently she saw the
church in its grove of oaks, in the shade of one of these stood Mr.
Bowen's horse and buggy.

"We won't have to wait on him!" said Norton.

"No--" Betty gasped out the monosyllable.

"Why--my darling--what's the matter?" he asked tenderly,