to her was the holiest in her young life--her love for him. In the past
six weeks it never once occurred to her that he could prove unworthy of
such trust as hers; no man would dare to be untrue to her--to her,
Aileen Armagh, who never in all her wilfulness and love of romance had
given man or boy occasion to use either her name or her lightly! How
dared he do this thing? Did he not know with whom he had to deal?
Because she was only Aileen Armagh, and at service with his relation,
did he think her less the true woman?

Suspicion was foreign to her open nature; doubt, distrust had no place
in her young life; but like a serpent in the girl's Eden the words of
the mistress of Champ-au-Haut, "He never will ask you to be his wife,"
dropped poison in her ears.

She sat up on the grass, thrust back her hair from her forehead--

"Let him dare to hint even that what he said was love for me was not
what--what--"

She buried her face in her hands.

"Aileen--Aileen--where are you?"

That voice, breaking in upon her wretched thought of him, brought her to
her feet.

VIII

"Mother, don't you think Aunt Meda might open her purse and do something
for Aileen Armagh now that the girl has been faithful to her interests
so long?"

He had remained at home since his arrival in the morning, and was now
about to drive down into the town.

His mother looked up from her sewing in surprise.

"What put that into your mind? I was thinking the same thing myself not
a week ago; she has such a wonderful voice."

"It seems unjust to keep her from utilizing it for herself so far as an
income is concerned and to deprive others of the pleasure of hearing her
voice after it is trained. But, of course, she can't do it herself."

"I only wish I could do it for her." His mother spoke with great
earnestness. "But even if I could help, there would be no use offering
so long as she remains with Almeda."

"Perhaps not; anyway, I'm going down there now, and I shall do what I
can to sound Aunt Meda on this point."

"Good luck!" she called after him. He turned, lifted his hat, and smiled
back at her.

* * * * *

He found Mrs. Champney alone on the terrace; she was sitting under the
ample awning that protected her from the sun but was open on all sides
for air.

"All alone, Aunt Meda?" he inquired cheerfully, taking a seat beside
her.

"Yes; when did you come?"

"This morning."

"Isn't it rather unexpect