ext to what you're going to be,
in all God's world?"

"No!"

"No? Priscilla, what do you mean?"

"Do not move. Please do not look up. She is--engaged to--to Clyde
Huntter!"

"Well?"

"I did not know; she never mentioned his name. While we played, names did
not matter--his, mine, no one's." An hysterical gasp caused Travers to
start.

"No, please keep your face turned. I must tell you in my way. I have just
taken care of--Mr. Huntter. He is not--fit to marry any woman--he cannot
marry--Margaret! Doctor Hapgood told him, but--he--means to marry! She
came to see him; she did not see me; she does not know; but she _must_
know!" fiercely; "she must know! That is the one thing above all else
that would matter to her; she told me so! She does not live for the--the
now; she was made for--for bigger things!"

"My God!" Travers was on his feet, and he dragged Priscilla with him. He
held her close by her wrists and searched her white, agonized face. Truth
and stern purpose were blazoned on it. She had never looked so beautiful,
so noble, or so--menacing.

"You heard Doctor Hapgood say that?"

"I did."

"In your presence?"

"No." Then she described the little scene graphically.

"But Ledyard----" Then he paused. Ledyard's confidence must be sacred to
him.

"And Huntter--Huntter knows that you know; does he know that you are
Margaret's friend?"

"Yes."

"And--he trusts you?"

"He thinks I do not count, but I do--with Margaret."

"Priscilla, this is no work for you, poor child!"

"It is--hers--and mine, and God's!" determinedly.

"Darling, you are overwrought. You must trust me. You know what I think
of such things; you can safely leave this to me. Ledyard is Huntter's
physician. Why he called Hapgood in, I do not know. I will go to Ledyard.
Can you not see--that they would not believe--you?"

"Margaret will!"

"But her father! You do not understand, my precious. You dear, little,
unworldly soul! Margaret Moffatt's marriage means a ninth wonder. Any
meddling with that would have to be sifted to the dregs. And when they
reached you, my own girl, they would grind you to atoms!"

"Not--Margaret!"

Priscilla drew herself away from the straining hands. She was quite calm
now and terribly earnest.

"When all's told, it is Margaret and I--and God!"

"No. There are others, and other things. All the world's forces are
against you."

"No, they are not! They are turning with me. I feel them; I feel them.
I