she must now go.

"Why must you go so soon?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, to-day is my birthday--I am twenty
to-day--and I know that Pigott, my old nurse, means to give me a
little present at breakfast, and she will be dreadfully disappointed
if I am late. She has been thinking a great deal about it, you see."

"May I wish you many, very many, happy returns of the day? and"--with
a little hesitation--"may I also offer you a present, a very worthless
one I fear?"

"How can I----" stammered Angela, when he cut her short.

"Don't be afraid; it is nothing tangible, though it is something that
you may not think worth accepting."

"What do you mean?" she said bluntly, for her interest was aroused.

"Don't be angry. My present is only the offer of myself as your
sincere friend."

She blushed vividly as she answered,

"You are very kind. I have never had but one friend--Mr. Fraser; but,
if you think you can like me enough, it will make me very happy to be
your friend too." And in another second she was gone, with her ravens
flying after her, to receive her present and a jobation from Pigott
for being late, and to eat her breakfast with such appetite as an
entirely new set of sensations can give.

In the garden she met her father, walking up and down before the
house, and informed him that she had been talking to Mr. Heigham. He
looked up with a curious expression of interest.

"Why did you not ask him in to breakfast?" he said.

"Because there is nothing to eat except bread and milk."

"Ah!--well, perhaps you were right. I will go down and speak to him.
No; I forgot I shall see him this afternoon."

And Arthur, let those who disbelieve in love at first sight laugh if
they will, sat down to think, trembling in every limb, utterly shaken
by the inrush of a new and strong emotion. He had not come to the age
of twenty-four without some experience of the other sex, but never
before had he known any such sensation as that which now overpowered
him, never before had he fully realized what solitude meant as he did
now that she had left him. In youth, when love does come, he comes as
a strong man armed.

And so, steady and overwhelming all resistance, the full tide of a
pure passion poured itself into his heart. There was no pretence or
make-believe about it; the bold that sped from Angela's grey eyes had
gone straight home, and would remain an "ever-fixed mark," so long as
life itself should last.

For only once