r. She does not
find me so puzzling;" and she hastened away, yet not so swiftly but
that he saw her quivering lip and look of trouble.

He took a few impulsive steps in pursuit, then hesitated and walked
irresolutely down a hallway, that he might have a chance for further
thought. The alarm and confusion were so great that the little episode
had been unnoted. It had made an impression on Graydon, however, that
he could not shake off readily.

Emotion, if forced, has little power except to repel, but even a
glimpse of deep, suppressed feeling haunts the memory, especially if
its cause is half in mystery.

Madge had set her heart on one thing, had worked long and patiently
for its attainment, had hoped and prayed for it, and within the last
few hours was feeling the bitterness of defeat. The event she so
dreaded seemed inevitable, even if it had not already occurred. The
expression on Graydon's face when she had first met him after his long
ramble with Miss Wildmere had been that of a tranquilly happy lover,
whose heart was at rest in glad certainty. Why should he not have
spoken? what greater encouragement could he ask than the favor she
herself had seen? During his long absence another girl had apparently
been waiting for him also, "But not working for him," she sighed, "and
keeping herself aloof from all and everything that would render her
less worthy. While I sought to train heart, body, and soul to be a fit
bride, she has dallied with every admirer she met, and now wins him
without one hour of self-denial or effort. It is more bitter than
death to me. It is cruelty to him, for that selfish girl will never
make him happy. Even after he marries her he will be only one among
many, and the ballroom glare will be more to her than the light of her
own hearth."

Such thoughts had been in Madge's mind, and self-control had been no
easy matter. When to all had been added the excitement of the storm
and his unexpected words, her overstrained nerves gave way. She
was too desperately unhappy for the common fear which temporarily
overwhelmed many--the greater swallows up the less--but the storm had
led to words that both wounded and alarmed her. Why did she so perplex
him? What had the lightning's gleam revealed, to be understood when
he should think it all over? Could the truth of her love, of which she
was so conscious, be detected in spite of her efforts and disguises?
Was she doomed, not only to failure and an impoveris