is what I want to say," said Thornton seriously. "For my own
sake, because it was my wife's wish, and for other reasons as well, my
interest here, though I am going away, will be just as great as it has
ever been; and so I want you to keep me thoroughly posted, and when the
time comes that I can be of further material assistance to let me know.
I impose only one condition--you are to say nothing to Miss Vail about
it--you can make anything that I may do appear to come from yourself."

"Say nothing to Miss Vail!" repeated Madison vaguely--then a sort of
ironic jest seemed to take possession of him: "But Miss Vail keeps all
the funds."

"That is why I am asking you to represent me," said Thornton quietly. "I
am afraid that she might have a natural diffidence about accepting
anything more from me--I asked Miss Vail to marry me to-night, and she
refused."

The cigar kind of slid down unnoticed from the corner of Madison's
mouth--and he leaned forward, hanging with a hand behind him to the
bedpost--and stared at Thornton.

"You--_what_!" he gasped.

"Yes; I know," Thornton answered--and moved abruptly toward the door.
"Love makes one's temerity very great--doesn't it? I asked her to marry
me--because I loved her." He came back from the door and held out his
hand, "I've told you what I would tell no other man, Madison. You
understand now why--and you'll do this for me?"

What answer Madison made he never knew himself--he only knew that he was
staring at the door after Thornton had gone out, and that he wanted to
laugh crazily. Marry Helena! Thornton had asked Helena to marry him
because he loved her. God, there was humor here! His brain itself seemed
to cackle at it--_marry_ Helena!

And then suddenly there seemed no humor at all--only black, infamous
shame and condemnation--and he straightened up from where he leaned
against the bedpost, his face set and strained.

"Thornton had asked Helena to marry him because he _loved_ her"--the
words came slowly, haltingly, aloud--and then he covered his face with
his hands. But he, he who loved her too--what had _he_ done!

--XXII--

THE SHRINE

For a little time Madison stood there in his room, motionless, staring
unseeingly before him--and then, as one awakening from a dream that had
brought dismay and a torment too realistic to be thrown from him on the
instant, his brain still a little blunted, he took up his hat
mechanically, went out from the room, descende