ble time, bemoaning the treasure that was now
quite inaccessible instead of nearly, and the treasure of his own heart
he had thrown away.

He awoke with a sense of misery and deep depression, and could not eat;
and that was a novelty in his young and healthy life. He drank a cup of
tea, however, and then went out, to avoid his mother's tender looks of
anxious inquiry. He meant to tell her all one day; but to-day he was
not strong enough. He must wait till he was cured; for cured he must be,
cured he would be.

He now tried to give his mind to the task Amboyne had set him; but it
was too hard: he gave it up, with rage and despair.

Then he made a desperate resolve, which will not surprise those who
know the human heart. He would harden himself. He would see more of Miss
Carden than ever; only it should be in quite a new light. He would look
at her, and keep saying to himself all the time, "You are another man's
wife."

With this determination, he called at "Woodbine Villa."

Miss Carden was not at home.

"Are you sure she is not at home?"

"Not at home," replied the man stiffly.

"But you needn't to keep him at the door," said a mellow female voice.

"No, miss," said the man, with a sudden change of manner, for he was a
desperate and forlorn admirer of the last speaker. "Come in, sir." And
he ushered him in to Jael Dence. She was in her bonnet, and just going
out. They shook hands, and she told him Miss Carden was out walking.

"Walking with her beau?" said Henry, affecting a jaunty air, but sick
within.

"That's more than I can say," replied Jael.

"You know nothing about it, of course," said Henry, roughly.

Jael looked surprised at the uncalled-for tone, and turned a mild glance
of inquiry and reproach upon him.

The young man was ashamed of himself, and at that moment, too, he
remembered he had already been rather ungrateful to her. So, to make
amends, he said, "Didn't I promise to take you to Cairnhope?"

"Ay," said Jael; and she beamed and blushed in a moment.

"Well, I must go there, Sunday at the latest. So I will come for you, if
you like. Will you be ready at ten o'clock?"

"Yes."

"I'll bring a gig, and take you like a lady."

"Anyway you please. I'd as lieve walk as ride."

"I prefer riding. Ten o'clock, the day after to-morrow. Good-by."

And he hurried away, provoked, not pleased, at the manifest pleasure he
had given. The woman he loved--inaccessible! The woman he only liked--he