ed her pliant young figure. Some dignity
was born in her face and in the clear eyes she raised, too pure to doubt
anything or to fear anything, sure for a moment that she possessed every
pulse and thought and knowledge of her own soul, then beset by a strange
shadowy misgiving that she had reached a curious crisis in her life that
she did not know of an instant ago.

But she said bravely, though there was a quiver in her breath that she
tried to keep from her voice:

"Let us remain cousins merely. My duty is here. My love is here
also--to the best of fathers, the tenderest of friends. I cannot share
it with anyone."

De la Maur bowed and went slowly out of the apartment.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE BLOOM OF LIFE--LOVE

Doris flew to the study. Uncle Winthrop's eyes were bent on his book and
his face partly turned aside. He had been making a brave fight. A man of
a less fine strain of honor would not have answered the brave young
lover as he had done. He could not have answered him thus if he had not
liked Henri de la Maur so well, and loved Doris with such singleness of
heart.

He heard her step and put out his hand without moving. His tone was very
low.

"Is it--France?"

"France! Oh, Uncle Win! When I belong to you and Boston?"

Her arms were around his neck. His heart, his whole body, seemed to give
one great throb of joy as he drew her down to his knee. There had been
only one other experience in life as sweet.

"And you would have sent me away!" with a soft, broken upbraiding in
which love was uppermost.

"No, child, no. God forbid, Doris, now that you are _not_ going, I will
confess--I think I should have died before the parting came. But, my
little girl, I must say this in memory of two sweet years of wedded
life--there is no happiness comparable to it. And to accept your youth,
your golden period that never dawns but once on any human being, to
gladden my declining years would be a selfish sin. I once had a
dream--but it came to naught"--he drew a long breath as if the
remembrance pained him. "You must be quite free, dear, to love and to
marry. All these years with you have been so precious, but sometime I
shall go my way, and I could not bear the thought of your being left
alone!"

"I shall stay with you. I--there can never be any home like this--any
love like yours----"

The hall door opened and shut slowly. That was Cary's step. She could
not meet him here. She kissed Uncle Win vehemently a