ter.
When the curtain rose on her lovely face and large, dark eyes, the
Hebrew maiden and her pathetic history grew into vivid reality against
the dim background of the past.

After all, the time that intervened between Monday and Friday
afternoon was spent in waiting, and even the hours toward the last
were counted. The expression in Graydon's dark blue eyes was always
the same when he greeted her, and recalled the line:

"Kinder than Love is my true friend."

On Saturdays they took long tramps, seeking objective points far
beyond the range of ordinary ramblers.

CHAPTER XL

THE END OF THE WOOING

Madge had often turned wistful eyes toward High Peak, and on the last
Saturday before their final return to the city she said to Graydon,
"Dare we attempt it? Perhaps if we gave the day to the climb, and took
it leisurely--"

"There's no 'perhaps' about it. We'll go if you wish. I should like
nothing better than to get lost with you."

"There is no danger of getting lost," she replied, hastily. "The hotel
must be visible from the whole line of its summit, and I am told that
there is a path to the top of the mountain."

"I will be ready in half an hour," he said.

It was a lovely day in early September. The air was soft, yet cool and
bracing enough to make climbing agreeable. Graydon had a lunch basket,
which he could sling over his shoulder, well filled, and ordered a
carriage. "There is no need of our tramping over the intervening miles
of dusty roads which must be passed before we begin our climb," he
said, "and the distance we ride will make a pleasant drive for Mary
and the children."

Madge and Graydon reached the summit without any great difficulty,
Mary having returned with the assurance that they would find their own
way back to the hotel.

As the hours passed, Graydon began to gather more hope than he had
dared to entertain since his shattered theory had so disheartened him.
In spite of his fancied knowledge about Madge, it was hard to believe
she was very unhappy that morning. There was an elasticity to her
step, a ring of genuine gladness in her tones and laugh, which did not
suggest that she was consciously carrying a heavy burden.

"She certainly is the bravest and most unselfish girl I ever
imagined," he thought, as they left the highest point after enjoying
the view. "With an art so inimitable as to be artless, she has tried
to give me enjoyment. Instead of regarding herself as one t