re, it's a solemn promise, the most sacred of my life! Get the better
of her, and he shall have every stick I removed. Give me your word, and
I'll accept it. I'll write for the packers to-night!"

Fleda, before this, had fallen forward on her companion's neck, and the
two women, clinging together, had got up while the younger wailed on the
other's bosom. "You smooth it down because you see more in it than there
can ever be; but after my hideous double game how will you be able to
believe in me again?"

"I see in it simply what _must_ be, if you've a single spark of pity.
Where on earth was the double game, when you've behaved like such a
saint? You've been beautiful, you've been exquisite, and all our trouble
is over."

Fleda, drying her eyes, shook her head ever so sadly. "No, Mrs. Gereth,
it isn't over. I can't do what you ask--I can't meet your condition."

Mrs. Gereth stared; the cloud gathered in her face again. "Why, in the
name of goodness, when you adore him? I know what you see in him," she
declared in another tone. "You're right!"

Fleda gave a faint, stubborn smile. "He cares for her too much."

"Then why doesn't he marry her? He's giving you an extraordinary
chance."

"He doesn't dream I've ever thought of him," said Fleda. "Why should he,
if you didn't?"

"It wasn't with me you were in love, my duck." Then Mrs. Gereth added:
"I'll go and tell him."

"If you do any such thing, you shall never see me again,--absolutely,
literally never!"

Mrs. Gereth looked hard at her young friend, showing she saw she must
believe her. "Then you're perverse, you're wicked. Will you swear he
doesn't know?"

"Of course he doesn't know!" cried Fleda indignantly.

Her interlocutress was silent a little. "And that he has no feeling on
_his_ side?"

"For me?" Fleda stared. "Before he has even married her?"

Mrs. Gereth gave a sharp laugh at this. "He ought at least to appreciate
your wit. Oh, my dear, you _are_ a treasure! Doesn't he appreciate
anything? Has he given you absolutely no symptom--not looked a look, not
breathed a sigh?"

"The case," said Fleda coldly, "is as I've had the honor to state it."

"Then he's as big a donkey as his mother! But you know you must account
for their delay," Mrs. Gereth remarked.

"Why must I?" Fleda asked after a moment.

"Because you were closeted with him here so long. You can't pretend at
present, you know, not to have any art."

The girl hesitated an instant; she wa