fluttered--she
became aware that she was not in reality alone. _How_, in the absence
of visual impression, we can only say by an instinct as unaccountable
as the phenomenon of sound waves which excite wire vibrations.

She was mysteriously imbued with another presence, if such a thing is
possible, and in all the world there was but one who could so clothe
the circumambient air in his own personality.

That one was Jerome Devonhough. Perceiving she now knew he was there,
he got up and came towards her.

Mell did not look at him; she looked upon the floor. He looked
straight at her, and looked so long and hard, and with a gaze so fixed
and steady, that he seemed to be slowly absorbing her very being into
his own entity.

When this became intolerable, the fairy-like apparition in tulle,
wrestling with the situation, on a war footing with her own feelings,
lifted from a glowing face those _lapis lazuli_ eyes of hers--pure
stones liquified by soul action--to his face and dropped them. In one
swift turn of those eyes she had taken in as much of that stern, cold,
accusing face as she could well bear. But there was nothing on it she
had not expected to see. She knew the unrelenting disdain of that
proud nature for what is stained, unworthy, unwomanly, as well as she
knew its strength to esteem, its gift to exalt, its power to bless.

And to look into a once loving face now grown cold, and to find there
no longer an indulgent smile nor approving aspect, is not an
experience to be coveted, even by the happiest.

"You are enjoying it, I hope," said at length a low mocking voice.

"Enjoying it!" retorted plucky Mell, "of course I am enjoying it! Why
shouldn't I? I am probably enjoying it as much as you are!"

"More, I hope. I, for one, never did enjoy being miserable."

"Oh, miserable!" exclaimed Mell, in a lively tone. His misery appeared
to put her in the highest spirits. "Going to marry a rich girl and
feeling miserable over it, how is that? You ought to be as happy,
almost, as I am!"

"The happiness which needs to be so extolled," replied Jerome, with a
sardonic laugh, "rests on a slim foundation. Mine is of a different
stamp. It leads me to envy the very worms as they crawl under my
feet. Even a worm is free to go where his wishes lead him--even a
worm is free to find an easy death and quick, when life becomes
insupportable."

Mell pressed her hand upon her heart, beating so fast--that pent-up
heart in a trouble