couldn't last much
longer."

"Well, I never had a sister, but I'm just as proud of Madge, and just
as fond of her, as if she were my own flesh and blood. She shall never
lack what a brother can do for her while I live."

"I'm glad you feel so," said Mrs. Muir. Then she sighed, and
thought, "A plague upon him! Why will he keep following up the other
white-faced thing, when he might win Madge if he tried hard enough.
It's plain that she don't care for him now except as she used to. And
she does care for him just as she did before she went away, in spite
of all her prudishness about the words brother and sister. I'm not
blind. She has grown so pretty, however, that I suppose Graydon would
wish to kiss her too often. She is just as fond of him as he is of
her, and in just the same way; but if I had his chance I'd soon have
it a different way;" and the good lady was complacency itself over
her penetration, as she bade Graydon good-night. No one could see and
report the surface of affairs more accurately than she.

As he descended to the hall, Arnault and Miss Wildmere entered. The
latter hastened forward and gave him her hand most cordially, saying,
"Why, Mr. Muir, I'm ever so glad to see you; you have been away an
age."

"A day, Miss Wildmere. Your appearance indicates that you have
survived admirably."

"The moon is so bright that we could drive fast, and I'm always happy
when in rapid motion."

"You have had the advantage of me then; yet I've been in rapid motion
a good part of the day on express trains."

"I feared you were not going to return to-day," she said, as she
strolled out with him on the piazza.

"Feared?"

"Yes, why not?"

"It strikes me that I might ask, Why?"

"Surely you would not have me lose such an evening as this, Mr. Muir?"
she said, a little reproachfully.

"I would have you follow your own heart."

"I shall follow it as soon as possible," she replied, so earnestly
that he was disarmed--especially as the glance which accompanied the
words was full of soft allurement and appeal. Of her own accord she
put her hand on his arm, and spoke in low, contented tones, as if she
had at last found rest and refuge. The moon poured around her a flood
of radiance, which gave her an ethereal aspect. Her white drapery
enhanced and spiritualized her remarkable beauty, making her appear
all that lover or poet could ask. His own words grew kinder and
gentler; his heart went out to her as never before;