herself why she demanded delay, except that she shrank from
delivering herself into hands that were so tender and might be so cruel.
It was instinctive, purely.

"A month," she said, and stuck to it.

He was rather sulky when he went away, and he had told her the exact
amount he had paid for her ring.

Having forced him to agree to the delay, she found her mood of
exaltation returning. As always, it was when he was not with he that she
saw him most clearly, and she saw his real need for her. She had a sense
of peace, too, now that at last something was decided. Her future, for
better or worse, would no longer be that helpless waiting which had
been hers for so long. And out of her happiness came a desire to do kind
things, to pat children on the head, to give alms to beggars, and--to
see Willy Cameron.

She came downstairs that afternoon, dressed for the street.

"I am going out for a little while, Aunt Nellie," she said, "and when I
come back I want to tell you something."

"Perhaps. I can guess."

"Perhaps you can."

She was singing to herself as she went out the door.

Elinor went back heavy-hearted to her knitting. It was very difficult
always to sit by and wait. Never to raise a hand. Just to wait and
watch. And pray.

Lily was rather surprised, when she reached the Eagle Pharmacy, to find
Pink Denslow coming out. It gave her a little pang, too; he looked so
clean and sane and normal, so much a part of her old life. And it hurt
her, too, to see him flush with pleasure at the meeting.

"Why, Lily!" he said, and stood there, gazing at her, hat in hand, the
sun on his gleaming, carefully brushed hair. He was quite inarticulate
with happiness. "I--when did you get back?"

"I have not been away, Pink. I left home--it's a long story. I am
staying with my aunt, Mrs. Doyle."

"Mrs. Doyle? You are staying there?"

"Why not? My father's sister."

His young face took on a certain sternness.

"If you knew what I suspect about Doyle, Lily, you wouldn't let the same
roof cover you." But he added, rather wistfully, "I wish I might see you
sometimes."

Lily's head had gone up a trifle. Why did her old world always try to
put her in the wrong? She had had to seek sanctuary, and the Doyle house
had been the only sanctuary she knew.

"Since you feel as you do, I'm afraid that's impossible. Mr. Doyle's
roof is the only roof I have."

"You have a home," he said, sturdily.

"Not now. I left, and my grandfathe