not to do what he told me to. And by the
time we got home I was--oh, Harry, I can't say it--and Warren met
me as I came in and saw--and he said--an awful thing--and rushed
away--and it's all over, Harry--I can never see him again--it's all
over."

"Don't think that, yet, Bella, dear. I'll write to him and explain it
all, and he'll know it wasn't your fault. He won't blame you. He's too
kind-hearted and good not to see that it was hasty of him to act as he
did."

"That won't matter, Harry. I'd like him to know that I'm not the kind
of woman he seemed to think. But I could never, never look him in the
face again after--that--after what he saw and said. I'd always think
he was thinking of it. It's all over, Harry, it's all over."

When at last Henrietta had soothed her sister to sleep she stood
beside the bed looking down at Isabella's grief-stricken face and
listening to the sobs that now and then convulsed her throat.

"And you could do this, Felix Brand!" she said bitterly. "You, that we
thought so noble and good! Hugh Gordon is right--you are a wicked man,
and if you are the one he meant you don't deserve to live!"

CHAPTER XX

"SAVE ME, DR. ANNISTER!"

Mildred Annister, passing the open door of her father's waiting room,
sent into it a casual glance, came to a sudden stop, and then, with a
brightening face, went quickly in, saying softly, "Felix!" Sweeping
the room with her eyes she saw that he was its only occupant and ran
toward him, holding out her hands and asking, apprehensively:

"Felix! You're waiting to see father! Are you ill?"

She put her hands upon his shoulders and studied his face with anxious
scrutiny for an instant, until, yielding to the pressure of his arms,
she sank upon his breast with a murmur of happy laughter.

"No, dearest, I'm not ill--you can see how perfectly well I look. It's
just a little nerve tire, I guess, and I want to ask Dr. Annister to
prescribe a tonic for me. It's nothing of any consequence."

She drew back and studied his face again. Even her fascinated eyes
began to see in it something different from the look of the man who
had won her love so completely a year before. She was conscious of
a little shiver, that meant, she knew not what, but kept her from
yielding when he would press her again into his arms.

"I'm afraid--Felix, dear--I know you must be working too hard. That's
what's the matter and that's what makes you look--a little--strange.
You are ti