er, an intimate
friend of Stephen Irving, and had come down to spend part of the summer
with him and his wife in Prince Edward Island. He was handsome in a
mature style, and he had a dash of mischief in him still, so that he
entered readily enough into Anne's plan. It amused him to think of
hurrying Ludovic Speed, and he knew that Theodora Dix could be depended
on to do her part. The comedy would not be dull, whatever its outcome.

The curtain rose on the first act after prayer meeting on the next
Thursday night. It was bright moonlight when the people came out of
church, and everybody saw it plainly. Arnold Sherman stood upon the
steps close to the door, and Ludovic Speed leaned up against a corner of
the graveyard fence, as he had done for years. The boys said he had worn
the paint off that particular place. Ludovic knew of no reason why he
should paste himself up against the church door. Theodora would come out
as usual, and he would join her as she went past the corner.

This was what happened, Theodora came down the steps, her stately figure
outlined in its darkness against the gush of lamplight from the porch.
Arnold Sherman asked her if he might see her home. Theodora took his arm
calmly, and together they swept past the stupefied Ludovic, who stood
helplessly gazing after them as if unable to believe his eyes.

For a few moments he stood there limply; then he started down the road
after his fickle lady and her new admirer. The boys and irresponsible
young men crowded after, expecting some excitement, but they were
disappointed. Ludovic strode on until he overtook Theodora and Arnold
Sherman, and then fell meekly in behind them.

Theodora hardly enjoyed her walk home, although Arnold Sherman laid
himself out to be especially entertaining. Her heart yearned after
Ludovic, whose shuffling footsteps she heard behind her. She feared that
she had been very cruel, but she was in for it now. She steeled herself
by the reflection that it was all for his own good, and she talked to
Arnold Sherman as if he were the one man in the world. Poor, deserted
Ludovic, following humbly behind, heard her, and if Theodora had known
how bitter the cup she was holding to his lips really was, she would
never have been resolute enough to present it, no matter for what
ultimate good.

When she and Arnold turned in at her gate, Ludovic had to stop. Theodora
looked over her shoulder and saw him standing still on the road. His
forlorn f