d and temper unknown even to the workings of her intellectual
consciousness, like the natural inclination of the heliotrope before the
rays of the rising sun.

Laying her head in the crook of her elbow she sobbed bitterly.

The thought that he was gone from her life brought inconsolable remorse.
She knew him, knew the intimate structure of his soul, and she knew that
a deep repentance would seize hold of him on account of his rash
presumption. He would be true to his word: he would not breathe the
subject again. Nay, more, he would ever permit her to disappear from his
life as gradually as she had entered into it. This was unendurable but
the consciousness that she had caused this bitter rupture was beyond all
endurance still.

She lifted her head and stared into the black depths of the night. All
was still except the shrill pipings of the frogs as they sounded their
dissonant notes to one another in the far-off Schuylkill meadows. They,
too, were filled with thoughts of love, Marjorie thought, which they had
made bold enough to publish in their own discordant way, and they seemed
to take eminent delight in having the whole world aware of the fact that
it, too, might rejoice with them.

If it were true that she loved him, it were equally true that he ought
to be apprised of it. There could be no love without a mutual
understanding, for to love alone would be admiration and entirely
one-sided. Let her unfold her soul to him in order that he might take
joy for his portion ere his ardor had cooled into mere civility. For if
it were licit to love, it were more licit to express it and this
expression should be reciprocal.

She would tell him before it were too late. Her silence at the very
moment when she should have acted was unfortunate. Perhaps his affection
had been killed by the blow and her protestations would be falling upon
barren soil. No matter! She would write and unfold her heart to him,
and tell him that she really and truly cared for him more than any one
else in the world, and she would beg him to return that she might
whisper in his ear those very words she had been softly repeating to
herself. Full repentance would take possession of her soul, and her
heart would rush unrestrained to the object of its love, telling him
that she was with him always, thinking of him, praying for him, and
waiting for him. She would write him at once.

II

But she did not mail the letter. Hidden carefully in her room,