. I cannot tell you any more
now, so please do not ask me. I know you will trust me."

He paused abruptly, impulsively took the arrow from the girl's hand,
and placed it in her dress at her throat. He then stepped back to view
the effect.

"It becomes you well, Jean, and you must always wear it there. It is
Love's-Charm, and it may mean more to you than you now imagine."

"I shall always wear it," was the low response, "not only as
Love's-Charm but as a remembrance of this happy day."

CHAPTER X

WHILE THE WATER FLOWS

The Colonel was not altogether surprised when that evening Jean told
him the important news. He had not been blind and deaf to all that had
been taking place around him since Dane's arrival. He was fond of the
courier, and believed him to be a noble young man, worthy of his
daughter's love. He wanted Jean to be happy, for in her happiness his
own was vitally involved. Yet it was only natural that the news of the
betrothal should bring a pang to his heart. Jean was his all, his
comfort, his joy. But now she shared her love with another, a young
man, of whose past history he knew very little, and nothing of the
family from which he had sprung.

He showed no trace of this feeling, however, as he sat before the fire.
Jean was standing by his side, the bright, flickering flames
illuminating her happy face. Suddenly she realised something of what
this revelation meant to him who was so dear to her. She had never
thought of it before, and it swept upon her now with a startling
intensity. What would her father do without her? She was all that he
had, and should she leave him, what would become of him? She recalled
his words uttered at the falls. "If anything happens to you," he had
said, "I do not believe I could endure life any longer." She had
smiled at him then, but she did not do so now. Stooping, she
impulsively threw her arms around her father's neck, and kissed him.

"You are not going to lose me, daddy," she said. "You will always have
me with you. And you will have another to help you," she added in a
lower voice.

"I know it, dear, I know it," was the somewhat faltering reply. "I
want you to be happy, Jean, and I believe the young man is worthy of
your love."

"'Deed he is," Old Mammy declared, as just then she waddled toward the
fire. Early that evening Jean had whispered the news into her ear, and
had received the old nurse's blessing, accompanied by a great mo