nfident to her.

"Just because you are you, Miss Glynn, and because I'm the happiest man
in New York, I want you to congratulate me. That was Miss Moffatt. She
and I are to marry--in the spring."

"Did you--mention my name to her?"

Priscilla's haggard face at last attracted the man.

"No. I was inhumanly selfish. You must forgive me. I meant to tell her of
your faithful care; I meant to have you meet her. I forgot."

"Never mention--me to her! She is my--one friend in all the world; my one
woman friend."

They faced each other blankly, fiercely. Then:

"Good Lord, Miss Glynn!" and Huntter--laughed!

CHAPTER XXIII

The week of recuperation Doctor Hapgood recommended was one of prolonged
torture to Priscilla Glenn. Thinking of it afterward, she realized that
it was the Gethsemane of her life--the hour when, forsaken by all, she
fought her bitter fight.

The drift of the ages confronted her. Her own insignificance, her
humbleness, accentuated and betrayed her. Who would listen? How dared she
speak! Who would heed her?

One, and one only. Margaret Moffatt!

From her Priscilla shrank and hid until she could gain courage to go
and--by saving her, kill her! Yes, it meant that. The killing of the
beautiful All Woman, as Travers had called her. After the telling there
would be only the shadow of the splendid creature that God had meant to
be so happy, if only the wrong of the world had not come between!

There were moments when, worn by struggle and wakeful nights, Priscilla
felt incapable of sane thought.

Why should she interfere, she asked herself. Professional silence was her
only course. And--there was the chance--the chance! Against it stood,
pleading, Margaret's radiant love and Huntter's strength and devotion.

Who could blame her if she--forgot? But oh! how they would curse her if
she spoke! They might not believe; they might ruin her!

Then faith laid its commanding touch upon her spirit. It had been given
her to know a woman who, for high principles and all the sacred future,
was prepared to sacrifice her love if needs must be!

They two, Margaret of the high-soul, and she, Priscilla Glenn of the
understanding devotion, seemed to stand apart and alone, each, in her
way, called upon to testify and act.

"It must be done!" moaned Priscilla; "she must know and--decide! But how?
how?"

John Boswell and Master Farwell were gone to the In-Place. The sanctuary
overlooking the river was closed