t
end of the piazza which was nearest the summer-house. As he passed
in, Graydon saw that it was Arnault. The quick suspicion came into
his mind, "Could he have been watching?" Then flashed another thought,
"Could she have become aware of his presence, and was this the cause
of her abrupt flight?"

The latter supposition was dismissed indignantly and at once. The
affair was taking on an aspect, however, so intensely disagreeable
that he resolved to write to Miss Wildmere that he would absent
himself until Arnault should disappear below the horizon. He would
then go trouting or take a trip to some other resort. This course
he believed would bring her to a decision, and after their recent
interview he could scarcely doubt its nature.

Before he was aware of it, his thoughts returned to Madge. In fancy he
saw the gray farmhouse on the lonely mountain-side, with a sweet
face at the window, the dark, sympathetic eyes now looking out on
the silent, moonlit landscape, and again at the thin, white face of a
dying girl. "Poor, poor child!" he thought, reverting to the patient.
"Well, for once, at least, she has had a good angel watching over her.
I would like to see Madge's face framed by the open window in this
witching light. Would to Heaven that Stella was more like her! Yet
Stella was beautiful as a dream to-night, and it seemed that my vision
of happiness was on the very eve of fulfilment."

CHAPTER XXVII

MADGE'S STORY

Early in the beautiful morning of the following day Graydon was out
securing a light carriage, for he reasoned that after watching all
night Madge would be too weary to enjoy horseback exercise. He first
called on the doctor, and obtained careful directions as to the
locality of Madge's sojourn. "The best I can do is to go with you
as guide this afternoon to the trout-stream, and then drive back by
moonlight," the doctor added.

Within an hour Graydon reached the cottage, and Madge ran out to
welcome him. "Now, this is kind and thoughtful of you," she said, and
there was unmistakable gladness in her face.

"Dear Madge, you have had a long, dismal night, I fear. I can see it
from the lines under your eyes."

"It has been a sad night, Graydon, yet I am very glad I came, and you
have now rewarded me. The poor girl is sleeping, and I can slip away."

Mr. and Mrs. Wendall parted from her feelingly and gratefully. Madge
promised to come again soon.

For a few moments they drove in silence, a