yours, I will never think of asking you to wed me until
even all possibility of suspicion of such a thing is swept aside. I
thought it right to tell you this; how could I help it,--when the joy
that should fill your life, the light which you should rejoice in, are
all the world to me?'

'Mr. Edgecumbe,' she said, 'you are my father's guest, and--and--I want
to think only kind thoughts of you,--but please drive away these
foolish fancies.'

He laughed gaily. 'Foolish fancies! Is the sun foolish for shining?
Are the flowers foolish for blooming? No, no; I love you,--I love you,
and day and night, summer and winter, through shine and through storm,
my one thought will be of you, always of you, and then, in God's good
time, you will come to me, and we shall enter into joy.'

During the greater part of their journey back scarcely a word passed
between them, and when at length they drew near the house again, he
spoke to her of other things, as though his mad confession had never
been uttered. He told her of the books he was trying to read, books
which were new to him, and yet which he felt he had read before; told,
too, of his thought about the war, and what we were fighting for, and
what the results would be. He spoke of his friendship with me, and of
what it meant to him; of his new life in the Artillery, and of his
progress as a gunner, and when he came up to the door where I was
waiting anxiously for them, he was telling her a humorous story about
two soldiers at the front. Indeed, so much had he erased the influence
of what he had at first said to her, that when Lorna Bolivick reached
the house she was laughing gaily.

'Had a pleasant walk?' I asked.

'Wonderful,' replied Edgecumbe; 'a walk never to be forgotten.'

As for Lorna, she went away to her room, and did not appear again until
dinner-time.

That night Edgecumbe revealed himself in a new light. No other
visitors were there, with the exception of Miss Blackwater. That was
the reason, perhaps, he was able to speak freely, and act naturally.
But, certainly, I never knew him such a pleasant companion as then, and
he revealed phases of character which I had never suspected him of.
This man, who was often wistful, and generally strenuous in his
earnestness, became humorous and gay. Sometimes he was almost
brilliant in his repartees, and revealed a fund of humour which
surprised me. Sometimes he grew quite eloquent in discussing the war,
and in telli