crooked
smile. "Living don't express it, Miss Christobel. Lively's more like
it, when Mr. Guy is concerned. And I reckon, wherever 'e is, e's
makin' things lively somewhere for somebody. You don't look quite the
thing this morning, Miss. Sit up and take your tea."

She sat up, loosing the pillow out of her arms--the pillow which had
been, first her Little Boy Blue, as she drew him to her in the
darkness; then the dead body of Guy Chelsea, as she lifted it on the
breakwater.

She took her tea from Martha's hand, and drank it quickly. She wanted
Martha to go.

It was Wednesday! Then the Boy had left her only the day before
yesterday. His telegram had come last night. The Professor's proposal
had not yet reached her.

Martha lifted the tray and departed.

Then Christobel Charteris rose, and stood at her open window, in the
morning sunlight. She looked out upon the mulberry-tree and the long
vista of soft turf; in the dim distance, the postern gate in the old
red wall--his paradise, and hers.

She lifted her beautiful arms above her head. The loose sleeves of her
nightdress fell away, baring them to the elbows. She might have stood,
in her noble development of face and form, for a splendid statue of
hope and praise.

"Ah, dear God!" she breathed, "is it indeed true? Is it possible? Is
my Boy alive? And am I free--free to be his alone? Am I free to give
him all he wants, free to be all he needs?"

She stood long at the window motionless, realizing the mental
adjustment which had come to her during the strenuous hours of the
night.

Her dream had taught her one great lesson: That under no circumstances
whatever, can it be right for a woman to marry one man, while with her
whole being she loves another. Love is Lord of all. Love reigns
paramount. No expectations, past or present, based on friendship or
gratitude; no sense of duty or obligations of any kind could make a
marriage right, if, in view of that marriage, Love had to stand by with
broken wings.

She felt quite sure, now, that she could never marry the Professor; and
humbly she thanked God for opening her eyes to the wrong she had
contemplated, before it was too late.

But there still remained the difficult prospect of having to disappoint
a man she esteemed so highly; a man who had been led to believe she
cared for him, and had waited years for him; a man who, for years, had
set his heart upon her. This was a heavy stone, and it la