s detained but little longer. The clock soon chimed midnight.
Arnault gave her a brief, cold look, turned on his heel and went
out, passing Graydon and Madge, who were at that moment ascending the
steps.

"Oh, pardon me," said Miss Wildmere, fairly trembling with dread;
"I had no idea it was so late!" and she bowed her companion away
instantly. At that moment she saw Graydon entering, and she went to
the parlor door; but he passed her without apparent notice, and
bade Madge a cordial good-night at the foot of the stairs. As he was
turning away Miss Wildmere was at his side.

"Mr. Muir--Graydon," she said, in an eager tone, "I wish to speak with
you."

He bowed very politely, and answered, in a voice that she alone could
hear, "You will receive a note from me at your room within half an
hour." Then, bowing again, he walked rapidly away.

She saw from his grave face and unsympathetic eyes that she had lost
him.

Half desperate, and with the instinct of self-preservation, she passed
out on the piazza to bid Arnault good-night, as she tried to assure
herself, with pallid lips, but ready then at last to take any terms
from him. Arnault was not to be seen. After a moment her father
stepped to her side and said:

"Stella, it is late. You had better retire."

"I wish to say good-night to Mr. Arnault," she faltered.

"Mr. Arnault has gone."

"Gone where?" she gasped.

"I don't know. As the clock struck twelve he came rapidly out and
walked away. He passed by me, but would not answer when I spoke to
him. Come, let me take you to your room."

With a chill at heart almost like that of death she went with him, and
sat down pale and speechless.

In a few moments a note was brought to Mr. Wildmere's door, and he
took it to his daughter. She could scarcely open it with her nerveless
fingers, and when she read the brief words--

"MISS WILDMERE--You must permit me to renounce all claims upon
you now and forever. Memory and your own thoughts will reveal
to you the obvious reasons for my action, GRAYDON MUIR,"

she found a brief respite from the results of her diplomacy in
unconsciousness.

CHAPTER XXXIV

BROKEN LIGHTS AND SHADOWS

Mr. Wildmere looked almost ten years older when he came down to what
he supposed would be a solitary breakfast; but something like hope
and gladness reappeared on his haggard face when he saw Arnault at his
table as usual. He scarcely knew how he would be received, but