onsciously with the velvet edges of the _Liber
Studiorum_. Her dress was of some soft, shining fabric, neither satin
nor silk, and its pale blue lustre shed a chill, pure light over the
wan, delicate face, that was white as a bending lily.

The faint yet almost mesmeric fragrance of orange flowers and violets
floated in the folds of her garments, and seemed lurking in the waves
of gray hair that glistened in the bright steady glow of the red
grate; and moved by one of those unaccountable impulses that sometimes
decide a man's destiny, Dr. Grey took the exquisitely beautiful hand
from the book and enclosed it in both of his.

"Mrs. Gerome, you seem strangely unsuspicious of the real nature of
the interest with which you have inspired me; and I owe it to you,
as well as to myself, to avow the feelings that prompt me to seek
your society so frequently. For some months after I met you, my
professional visits afforded me only rare and tantalizing glimpses of
you, but from the day of Elsie's death, I have been conscious that my
happiness is indissolubly linked with yours,--that my heart, which
never before acknowledged allegiance to any woman, is--"

"For God's sake, stop! I cannot listen to you."

She had wrung her hand violently from his clinging fingers, and,
springing to her feet, stood waving him from her, while an expression
of horror came swiftly into her eyes and over her whole countenance.

Dr. Grey rose also, and though a sudden pallor spread from his lips to
his temples, his calm voice did not falter.

"Is it because you can never return my love, that you so vehemently
refuse to hear its avowal? Is it because your own heart--"

"It is because your love is an insult, and must not be uttered!"

She shivered as if rudely buffeted by some freezing blast, and the
steely glitter leaped up, like the flash of a poniard, in her large,
dilating eyes.

Shocked and perplexed, he looked for a moment at her writhing
features, and put out his hand.

"Can it be possible that you so utterly misapprehend me? You surely
can not doubt the earnestness of an affection which impels me to offer
my hand and heart to you,--the first woman I have ever loved. Will you
refuse--"

"Stand back! Do not touch me! Ah,--God help me! Take your hand from
mine. Are you blind? If you were an archangel I could not listen to
you, for--for--oh, Dr. Grey!"

She covered her face with her hands, and staggered towards a chair.

A horrible, sick