ered a loud, piercing scream that dispersed all Bernard's
thoughts and frightened the horse. He went dashing across the bridge,
Bernard endeavoring to grasp the reins. When he at last succeeded,
Viola had fainted. Bernard drove hurriedly towards Viola's home,
puzzled beyond measure. He had never heard of a marriage proposal
frightening a girl into a faint and he thought that there was surely
something in the matter of which he knew nothing. Then, too, he was
racking his brain for an excuse to give Viola's parents. But happily
the cool air revived Viola and she awoke trembling violently and
begged Bernard to take her home at once. This he did and drove away,
much puzzled in mind.

He revived the whole matter in his mind, and thoughts and opinions
came and went. Perhaps she deemed him utterly unworthy of her. There
was one good reason for this last opinion and one good one against it.
He felt himself to be unworthy of such a girl, but on the other hand
Viola had frequently sung his praises in his own ears and in the ears
of others. He decided to go early in the morning and know definitely
his doom.

That night he did not sleep. He paced up and down the room glancing
at the clock every five minutes or so. He would now and then hoist
the window and strain his eyes to see if there were any sign of
approaching dawn. After what seemed to him at least a century, the
sun at last arose and ushered in the day. As soon as he thought Miss
Martin was astir and unengaged, he was standing at the door. They each
looked sad and forlorn. Viola knew and Bernard felt that some dark
shadow was to come between them.

Viola caught hold of Bernard's hand and led him silently into the
parlor. Bernard sat down on the divan and Viola took a seat thereon
close by his side. She turned her charming face, sweet in its sadness,
up to Bernard's and whispered "kiss me, Bernard."

Bernard seized her and kissed her rapturously. She then arose and sat
in a chair facing him, at a distance.

She then said calmly, determinedly, almost icily, looking Bernard
squarely in the face: "Bernard, you know that I love you. It was I
that asked you to kiss me. Always remember that. But as much as I love
you I shall never be your wife. Never, never."

Bernard arose and started toward Viola. He paused and gazed down upon
that beautiful image that sat before him and said in anguish: "Oh God!
Is all my labor in vain, my honors common dirt, my future one dreary
waste?