ling.

"Just what you mean to do."

"I wish you would tell me that."

"Now I tell you, Maimie," said Kate, "if you go on with Ranald so any
longer I will just tell him you are playing with him."

"Do," said Maimie, scornfully, "and be careful to make clear to him at
the same time that you are speaking solely in his interest!"

Kate's face flushed red at the insinuation, and then grew pale. She
stood for some time looking in silence at her friend, and then with a
proud flash of her dark eyes, she swept from the room without a word,
nor did Maimie see her again that afternoon, though she stood outside
her door entreating with tears to be forgiven. Poor Kate! Maimie's shaft
had gone too near a vital spot, and the wound amazed and terrified her.
Was it for Ranald's sake alone she cared? Yes, surely it was. Then why
this sharp new pain under the hand pressing hard upon her heart?

Oh, what did that mean? She put her face in her pillow to hide the red
that she knew was flaming in her cheeks, and for a few moments gave
herself up to the joy that was flooding her whole heart and soul and all
her tingling veins. Oh, how happy she was. For long she had heard of the
Glengarry lad from Maimie and more from Harry till there had grown up
in her heart a warm, admiring interest. And now she had come to know him
for herself! How little after all had they told her of him. What a man
he was! How strong and how fearless! How true-hearted and how his eyes
could fill with love! She started up. Love? Love? Ah, where was her joy!
How chill the day had grown and how hateful the sunlight on the river.
She drew down the blind and threw herself once more upon the bed,
shivering and sick with pain--the bitterest that heart can know. Once
more she started up.

"She is not worthy of him!" she exclaimed, aloud; "her heart is not deep
enough; she does not, cannot love him, and oh, if some one would only
let him know!"

She would tell him herself. No! No! Maimie's sharp arrow was quivering
still in her heart. Once more she threw herself upon the bed. How could
she bear this that had stricken her? She would go home. She would go to
her mother to-morrow. Go away forever from--ah--could she? No, anything
but that! She could not go away.

Over the broad river the warm sunlight lay with kindly glow, and the
world was full of the soft, sweet air of spring, and the songs of mating
birds; but the hours passed, and over the river the shadows began to