rt."

The girl's face was clouded, for she had just learned of Serviss's
departure and was deeply hurt. She drew the pin from her hat and
silently laid it on the table, and in this gesture was something of
the resolution of the warrior who divests himself of his cumbering
plumed helmet. "It's very simple," she curtly answered. "I want to get
away from here for a while. I can't endure my life here any longer."

"Why not? Why are you so unhappy?" he asked, with an accent of stern
reproof. "It is a beautiful land--you are among your own people, you
have your music, your work, and you are young. You ought to be happy."

"That's just it," she interrupted, quite fiercely. "It is because I am
young that I want to do something. It seems to me to-day as if I were
losing the best years of my life here in this little town, and I want
to get away. I _must_ get away!"

"Does your work with me seem of no value?" His glowing eyes sought
hers. He approached her. "Do I weary you? Am I an irritation?"

Her face softened. "No, you have helped me very much. I couldn't have
endured this life without you and my music; but this other life--these
sittings--I can't go on with them."

"Don't you feel that you must? Don't you feel their enormous
importance?"

"No, I don't! I begin to doubt myself--everybody. What have _they_
done for you, for anybody, that I should sacrifice nay whole life to
them and their wishes?"

"They brought me healing; they made Dr. Randall happy in his last
years; they are a daily solace to your mother; they will comfort
millions through our agency." He bent towards her. "Viola, my girl,
God has designed for you and me a closer union than even this. You say
I have comforted you, that I have made life happier for you. I have
come to-night to tell you that I love you, and that I want you to be
my wife."

The girl recoiled from the touch of his hand, uttering a low cry of
surprise, of question.

He went on: "Yes, I have grown to care for you beyond any other human
being. You are my staff, my stay. God sent you to my spiritual
healing. I should have gone mad but for you." He bent upon her a look
of passion and command. "You must not think of going away. You belong
to me." Her face warned him that his appeal was being misinterpreted,
and he added, quickly: "I know this comes to you abruptly, and yet you
must have felt my love, you must have read my heart."

"Not in that way," she answered, in a low voice. "I thou