he has had cause to withdraw those words."

Claire, however, announced her intention of visiting her sister
whenever she chose, and she succeeded, in part, in carrying out her
will, for every year she passed two months or more with Olive.

What a picture the two girls now made, standing face to face.

Madeline, with her lithe grace of form, her pure pale complexion lit
up by those fathomless brown eyes, and rendering more noticeable and
beautiful the tiny rosy mouth, with its satellite dimples; with such
wee white, blue-veined hands, and such a clear ringing, yet
marvelously sweet voice. Madeline was very beautiful, and Claire, as
she looked at her, wondered how any man could bear to lose such
loveliness, or have the heart to betray it; as if ever pure woman
could fathom the depth of a bad man's wickedness.

Bonnie, bewitching Claire! Never was contrast more perfect. A scarf,
like scarlet flame, flung about her shoulders, set off the richness of
her clear brunette skin, through which the crimson blood flamed in
cheek and lip. Eyes, now black, now gray, changing, flashing, witching
eyes: gray in quiet moments, darkening with mirth or sadness, anger or
pain; hair black and silky, rippling to the rounded, supple waist in
glossy waves. Not so tall as Madeline, and rounded and dimpled as a
Hebe.

Bringing her will into service, Madeline banished the gloom from her
face and said, with an attempt at gayety:

"I must be a terrible wet blanket when my ghost rises, Claire. But
come, you have excited my curiosity; let us sit down while you tell me
more of this mighty man who has pitched his tent in the wilderness of
your heart, to the exclusion of others who might aspire."

They seated themselves upon a rustic bench and Claire replied:

"Don't anticipate too much, inquisitor; I have no acknowledged lover,
but--" blushing charmingly, "I have every reason to think that I am
loved fondly and sincerely. He is very handsome, Madeline, and--but
wait, I will show you his picture."

Madeline nodded, and Claire bounded away, to return quickly bearing in
her hand a finely wrought cabinet photograph, encased in velvet and
gilt, _a la souvenaire_. Placing it in her companion's hand, she sat
down with a little triumphant sigh, and gazed over Madeline's shoulder
with a proud, glad look in her eyes.

"Blonde?" suggested Madeline.

"Yes," eagerly; "such lovely hair and whiskers,--perfect gold color;
and fair as a woman."

"So I sho