bent down and
kissed her gently, as one would kiss the Madonna of a shrine.

"Phebe," he whispered, "not for always only for a time, dear--good-by."

"Yes," she said, with a glad smile lighting up all her sweet, pure face.
"Only for a time."

And them, still holding her hands tightly clasped in his, Denham bent
down his head upon them and prayed.

The sunset came and faded, and the twilight came and went, giving place
to the solemn stillness of the enduring night. The stars shone clear and
still. Not a breath stirred. In his study Denham knelt alone, praying for
a dear and lovely life, praying against hope, against belief--against all
but faith. He did not know what time it was--it seemed as if it might be
morning---when at last the door opened and Soeur Angelique came in. He
got up and stood waiting, too agitated to speak. What news could she
bring him but the one? She came slowly up to him, then gave a little
gasp, and flinging her arms around his neck, burst into tears.

"O Denham, Denham, all is over! Phebe is dead!"

CHAPTER XV.

ONLY AN INCIDENT.

The morning sun was streaming brilliantly in through the richly curtained
windows of a handsome New York dwelling. Mr. and Mrs. De Forest were
about sitting down to breakfast, which waited for them ready served, and
which indeed had been so waiting for some minutes. The butler coughed
behind his hand as a discreet reminder of his presence, and so indirectly
of the cooling dishes. The gentleman looked up from his easy-chair by the
fire and yawned.

"My dear, I've been up so long I think it's getting bedtime again."

"Just one moment, Ogden," answered the lady, from her desk. "I must send
off this note by the first mail."

"Any thing important?"

"Yes. I will not be put on that new committee. They _must_ find some one
else. My time is too full."

De Forest rose and stood with his back to the fire, looking complacently
at his wife. "What an odd sensation it must be--having one's time too
full! It's an experience I'm willing always to delegate to some one else.
Doesn't it feel rather like too tight shoes?"

Gerald laughed as she passed her husband to her seat at the table, and he
stood still watching her as she began pouring coffee. It was always a
pleasure to watch her. The butler drew out the gentleman's chair firmly.
It was time his master took his seat with his lady. There was too much of
this dilly-dallying. De Forest came lazily forward and se