Your lover, Philip."

Smiles slowly replaced the note, her first love letter, in its envelope,
laid it in the box and locked this in the drawer. With her hands resting
on the dresser she leaned forward and looked searchingly into her own
eyes, as though trying to read her very heart. Her lips moved and formed
the words, "He cannot help hoping that the answer will be the one he
desires. He knows that I _do_ care for him. Yes, he cannot help knowing
it; I am too simple to hide my feelings, and he has been so sweet that I
could not help ... but ... oh, I wish that I hadn't got to tell him ...
to-night."

Meanwhile Donald had been sitting for many minutes in the silence born
of laboring thoughts. He had guessed Smiles' secret in part, but not in
its entirety, and the bitter unhappiness, which had had its inception in
Philip's disclosure, lay over his soul like a pall.

His father was the first to speak, and his words caused Donald to start,
for they seemed to be the result of telepathic communication.

"You told us, once, that she wasn't a witch, but, by Jove, there's both
witchery and healing in that smile of hers, Don. Look at Muriel now.
It's nothing less than a miracle what the very presence of Rose has done
for her."

"I was wrong," answered Donald, shortly, whereupon Ethel laid aside her
book and joined in the conversation in a low voice, so that the absorbed
Muriel might not hear.

"You love her, Don, it's perfectly obvious. What are you waiting for?
Now that Marion has behaved so shamefully, it is my dearest hope that
you will marry Rose. I didn't mean to speak of it; but, really, you are
changing, Donald, and I don't want to think of your becoming a
self-centred old bachelor."

"Ethel's right," supplemented his father. "I'm only surprised that you
haven't asked her before. You've been in the same house with her for a
whole week. Don't let one ... er ... unfortunate experience discourage
you."

Donald carefully knocked the ashes from his pipe, got up, walked to the
railing, and stood with his back toward them.

Then he laughed, a trifle bitterly.

"Thanks for the advice. I won't pretend that I don't ... care for her;
but I can't ask her to marry me, as you suggest--that is, not now."

"Why not, I should like to know?" demanded his sister, impatiently.

"I can't explain, either; but there is a reason. I am bound in honor.
Please don't say anything more about it."

B