I have come as fast as I could travel, just to
see you face to face as I do now. Yet I have a further hope in my heart,
Dexie, for Lancy is not between us now."

Dexie's heart beat too fast to allow of a reply, and Hugh added:

"You can guess how glad I was to hear that you and Lancy were friends only,
and from what Gussie tells me there is hope for me yet. Is it so, Dexie?"

"You must not put any faith in Gussie's stories, Mr. McNeil," Dexie managed
to reply. "I am aware she is resting under a delusion, but I did not take
the trouble to convince her of the fact. I was hoping I should not have to
tell you what is surely plain to yourself," blushing as she gave a meaning
glance in Guy's direction.

"Then your father was right! I have come too late! Is that what you wish me
to believe? Think a minute, Dexie, before you say what will rob me of all
hope!" and he bent his head in his eagerness to read her answer in her
truthful face.

"If papa told you I was engaged to Mr. Traverse, he told you the truth,"
Dexie said, in a low tone.

"But do you love him, Dexie? Are you sure your heart is given with your
hand? I was right in Lancy's case, you know."

As he spoke, Guy came over to her side, and she laid her hand on his arm,
and looked into his face with such trust upon her own that Hugh felt she
had answered his question.

"Mr. McNeil, I am not naturally jealous," said Guy, pleasantly, "but if my
little wife is making love to you here, I'm afraid there is danger that I
shall grow that way," and he laid his arm across Dexie's shoulder, and
smiled at them both.

Dexie looked over her shoulder at this declaration, and was surprised to
find there was no one in the room except themselves, but Guy had brought
this about in order to announce their engagement to Hugh.

"Unfortunately for me, the love-making is only on my side," said Hugh,
bitterly. "I cannot win even one word of kindness from Dexie's lips; my
very presence seems unwelcome. She has just given me to understand that she
belongs to you, and I am expected, I suppose, to offer my congratulations;
but I cannot do it--I must get used to the thought first. I am not afraid
or ashamed to confess that I have loved Dexie Sherwood for years--loved her
madly, blindly, though she has given me nothing but hard words and scornful
looks through it all. Months of travel have failed to make me forget her.
She has been like a loadstone drawing me back to her, when in my pride I