Chapter 15. The Awakening

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_ CHAPTER XV. THE AWAKENING

As Darrell was returning home one evening, some ten days later, he heard Kate's rippling laughter and sounds of unusual merriment, and, on coming out into view of the house, beheld her engaged in executing a waltz on the veranda, with Duke as a partner. The latter, in his efforts to oblige his young mistress and at the same time preserve his own dignity, presented so ludicrous a spectacle that Darrell was unable to restrain his risibility. Hearing his peals of laughter and finding herself discovered, Kate rather hastily released her partner, and the collie, glad to be once more permitted the use of four feet, bounded down the steps to give Darrell his customary welcome, his mistress following slowly with somewhat heightened color.

Darrell at once apologized for his hilarity, pleading as an excuse Duke's comical appearance.

"We both must have made a ridiculous appearance," she replied, "but as Duke seems to have forgiven you, I suppose I must, and I think I had better explain such undignified conduct on my part. Auntie has just told me that she is going to give a grand reception for me two weeks from to-day, or, really, two of them, for there is to be an afternoon reception from three until six for her acquaintances, with a few young ladies to assist me in receiving; and then, in the evening, I am to have a reception of my own. We are going to send nearly two hundred invitations to Galena, besides our friends here. Papa is going to have the ball-room on the top floor fitted up for the occasion, and we are to have an orchestra from Galena, and altogether it will be quite 'the event of the season.' Now do you wonder," she added, archly, "that I seized hold of the first object that came in my way and started out for a waltz?"

"Not in the least," Darrell answered, his dark eyes full of merriment. "I only wish I had been fortunate enough to have arrived a little earlier."

A mischievous response to his challenge sparkled in Kate's eyes for a moment, but she only replied, demurely,--

"You shall have your opportunity later."

"When?"

"Two weeks from to-night."

"Ah! am I to be honored with an invitation?"

"Most assuredly you will be invited," Kate replied, quietly; then added, shyly, "and I myself invite you personally, here and now, and that is honoring you as no other guest of mine will be honored."

"Thank you," he replied, gently, with one of his tender smiles; "I accept the personal invitation for your sake."

She was standing on the topmost stair, slightly above him, one hand toying with a spray of blossoms depending from the vines above her head. With a swift movement Darrell caught the little hand and was in the act of carrying it to his lips, when it suddenly slipped from his grasp and its owner as quickly turned and disappeared.

Darrell seated himself with a curious expression. It was not the first time Kate had eluded him thus within the last few days. He had missed of late certain pleasant little familiarities and light, tender caresses, to which he had become accustomed, and he began to wonder at this change in his child companion, as he regarded her.

"What has come over the child?" he soliloquized; "two weeks ago if I had given her a challenge for a waltz she would have taken me up, but lately she is as demure as a little nun! We will have to give it up, won't we, Duke, old boy?" he continued, addressing the collie, whose intelligent eyes were fastened on his face with a shrewd expression, as though, aware of the trend of Darrell's thoughts, he, too, considered his beloved young mistress rather incomprehensible.

The ensuing days were so crowded with preparations for the coming event and with such constant demands upon Kate's time that Darrell seldom saw her except at meals, and opportunities for anything like their accustomed pleasant interchange of confidence were few and far between. On those rare occasions, however, when he succeeded in meeting her alone, Darrell could not but be impressed by the subtle and to him inexplicable change in her manner. She seemed in some way so remotely removed from the young girl who, but a few days before, in response to the violin's tale, had confided to him the loneliness of her own life. A shy, sweet, but impenetrable reserve seemed to have replaced the childlike familiarity. Her eyes still brightened with welcome at his approach, but their light was quickly veiled beneath drooping lids, and through the cadences of her low tones he caught at times the vibration of a new chord, to whose meaning his ear was as yet unattuned.

He did not know, nor did any other, that within that short time she had learned her own heart's secret. Child that she was, she had met Love face to face, and in that one swift, burning glance of recognition the womanhood within her had expanded as the bud expands, bursting its imprisoning calyx under the ardent glance of the sun. But Darrell, seeing only the effect and knowing nothing of the cause, was vaguely troubled.

On the day of the reception both Mr. Underwood and Darrell lunched and dined down town, returning together to The Pines in the interim between the afternoon and evening entertainments. As Darrell sprang from the carriage and ran up the stairs the servants were already turning on the lights temporarily suspended within the veranda and throughout the grounds, so that the place seemed transformed into a bit of fairyland. He heard chatter and laughter, and caught glimpses of young ladies--special guests from out of town--flitting from room to room, but Kate was nowhere to be seen.

Going to his room, he quickly donned an evening suit, not omitting a dainty boutonnière awaiting him on his dressing-case, and betook himself to the libraries across the hall, where, by previous arrangement, Kate was to call for him when it was time to go downstairs.

From below came the ceaseless hum of conversation, the constant ripple of laughter, mingled with bits of song, and the occasional strains of a waltz. Reading was out of the question. Sinking into the depths of a large arm-chair, Darrell was soon lost in dreamy reverie, from which he was roused by a slight sound.

Looking up, he saw framed in the arched doorway between the two rooms a vision, like and yet so unlike the maiden for whom he waited and who had occupied his thoughts but a moment before that he gazed in silent astonishment, uncertain whether it were a reality or part of his dreams. For a moment the silence was unbroken; then,--

"How do you like my gown?" said the Vision, demurely.

Darrell sprang to his feet and approached slowly, a new consciousness dawning in his soul, a new light in his eyes. Of the style or texture of her gown, a filmy, gleaming mass of white, he knew absolutely nothing; he only knew that its clinging softness revealed in new beauty the rounded outlines of her form; that its snowy sheen set off the exquisite moulding of her neck and arms; that its long, shimmering folds accentuated the height and grace of her slender figure; but a knowledge had come to him in that moment like a revelation, stunning, bewildering him, thrilling his whole being, irradiating every lineament of his face.

"I know very little about ladies' dress," he said apologetically, "and I fear I may express myself rather bunglingly, but to me the chief beauty of your gown consists in the fact that it reveals and enhances the beauty of the wearer; in that sense, I consider it very beautiful."

"Thank you," Kate replied, with a low, sweeping courtesy to conceal the blushes which she felt mantling her cheeks, not so much at his words as at what she read in his eyes; "that is the most delicate compliment I ever heard. I know I shall not receive another so delicious this whole evening, and to think of prefacing it with an apology!"

"I am glad to hear that voice," said Darrell, possessing himself of one little gloved hand and surveying his companion critically, from the charmingly coiffed head to the dainty white slipper peeping from beneath her skirt; "the voice and the eyes seem about all that is left of the little girl I had known and loved."

She regarded him silently, with a gracious little smile, but with deepening color and quickening pulse.

He continued: "She has seemed different of late, somehow; she has eluded me so often I have felt as though she were in some way slipping away from me, and now I fear I have lost her altogether. How is it?"

Darrell gently raised the sweet face so that he looked into the clear depths of the brown eyes.

"Tell me, Kathie dear, has she drifted away from me?"

For an instant the eyes were hidden under the curling lashes; then they lifted as she replied, with an enigmatical smile,--

"Not so far but that you may follow, if you choose."

Darrell bowed his head and his lips touched the golden-brown hair.

"Sweetheart," he said, in low tones, scarcely above a whisper, "I follow; if I overtake her, what then? Will I find her the same as in the past?"

Her heart was beating wildly with a new, strange joy; she longed to get away by herself and taste its sweetness to the full.

"The same, and yet not the same," she answered, slowly; then, before he could say more, she added, lightly, as a wave of laughter was borne upward from the parlors.

"But I came to see if you were ready to go downstairs; ought we not to join the others?"

"As you please," he replied, stooping to pick up the programme she had dropped; "are the guests arriving yet?"

"No; it is still early, but I want to introduce you to my friends. Oh, yes, my programme; thanks! That reminds me, I am going to ask you to put your name down for two or three waltzes; you know," she added, smiling, "I promised you two weeks ago some waltzes for this evening, so take your choice."

For an instant Darrell hesitated, and the old troubled look returned to his face.

"You are very kind," he said, slowly, "and I appreciate the honor; but it has just occurred to me that really I am not at all certain regarding my proficiency in that line."

Kate understood his dilemma. They had reached the hall; some one was at the piano below and the strains of a dreamy waltz floated through the rooms.

"I haven't a doubt of your proficiency myself," she replied, with a confident smile, "but if you would like a test, here is a good opportunity," and she glanced up and down the vacant but brightly lighted corridor. Darrell needed no second hint, and almost before she was aware they were gliding over the floor.

To Kate, intoxicated with her new-found joy, it seemed as though she were borne along on the waves of the music without effort or volition of her own. She dared not trust herself to speak. Once or twice she raised her eyes to meet the dark ones whose gaze she felt upon her face, but the love-light shining in their depths overpowered her glance and she turned her eyes away. She knew that he had seen and recognized the woman, and that as such--and not as a child--he loved her, and for the present this knowledge was happiness enough.

And Darrell was silent, still bewildered by the twofold revelation which had so suddenly come to him; the revelation of the lovely womanhood at his side, to which he had, until now, been blind, and of the love within his own heart, of which, till now, he had been unconscious.

Before they had completed two turns up and down the corridor the music ceased as suddenly as it had begun.

"Oh, that was heavenly! It seemed like a dream!" Kate exclaimed, with a sigh.

"It seemed a very blessed bit of reality to me," Darrell laughed in return, drawing her arm within his own as they proceeded towards the stairs.

"You are a superb dancer; now you certainly can have no scruples about claiming some waltzes," Kate replied, withdrawing her arm and again placing her programme in his hands.

As they paused at the head of the stairs while Darrell complied with her request, a chorus of voices was heard in the hall below.

"Kate, are you never coming?" some one called, and a sprightly brunette appeared for an instant on the first landing, but vanished quickly at sight of Darrell.

"Girls!" they heard her exclaim to the merry group below; "would you believe it? She is taking a base advantage of us; she has discovered what we did not suppose existed in this house--a young man--and is getting her programme filled in advance!"

Cries of "Oh, Kate, that's not fair!" followed. Kate leaned laughingly over the balustrade.

"He's an angel of a dancer, girls," she called, "but I'll promise not to monopolize him!"

Darrell returned the programme, saying, as they passed down the stairs together,--

"I didn't want to appear selfish, so I only selected three, but give me more if you can, later."

Kate smiled. "I think," she replied, "you will speedily find yourself in such demand that I will consider myself fortunate to have secured those three; but," she added shyly, as her eyes met his, "my first waltz was with you, and that was just as I intended it should be!"

Through the hours which followed so swiftly Darrell was in a sort of waking dream, a state of superlative happiness, unmarred as yet by phantoms from the shrouded past or misgivings as to the dim, uncertain future; past and future were for the time alike forgotten. One image dominated his mind,--the form and face of the fair young hostess moving among her guests as a queen amid her court, carrying her daintily poised head as though conscious of the twofold royal crown of womanhood and woman's love. One thought surged continuously through and through his brain,--that she was his, his by the sovereign right of love. Whatever courtesy he showed to others was for her sake, because they were her guests, her friends, and when unengaged he stationed himself in some quiet corner or dimly lighted alcove where, unobserved, he could watch her movements with their rhythmic grace or catch the music of her voice, the sight or sound thrilling him with joy so exquisite as to be akin to pain. The oft-repeated compliments of the crowd about him seemed to him empty, trite, meaningless; what could they know of her real beauty compared with himself who saw her through Love's eyes!

As he stood thus alone in a deep bay-window, shaded by giant palms, some one paused beside him.

"Our little débutante has surpassed herself to-night; she is fairest of the fair!"

Darrell turned to see at his side Walcott, faultlessly attired, elegant, nonchalant; a half-smile playing about his lips as through half-closed eyes he watched the dancers. Instantly all the antagonism in Darrell's nature rose against the man; strive as he might, he was powerless to subdue it. There was no trace of it in his voice, however, as he answered, quietly,--

"Miss Underwood certainly looks very beautiful to-night."

"She has matured marvellously of late," continued the other, in low, pleasant tones; "her development within the past few weeks has been remarkable. But that is to be expected in women of her style, and this is but the beginning. Mark my words, Mr. Darrell," Walcott faced his auditor with a smile, "Miss Underwood's beauty to-night is but the pale shining of a taper beside one of those lights yonder, compared with what it will be a few years hence; are you aware of that?"

"It had not occurred to me," Darrell replied, with studied calmness, for the conversation was becoming distasteful to him.

"Look at her now!" said Walcott, bowing and smiling as Kate floated past them, but regarding her with a scrutiny that aroused Darrell's quick resentment; "very fair, very lovely, I admit, but a trifle too slender; a little too colorless, too neutral, as it were! A few years will change all that. You will see her a woman of magnificent proportions and with the cold, neutral tints replaced by warmth and color. I have made a study of women, and I know that class well. Five or ten years from now she will be simply superb, and at the age when ordinary women lose their power to charm she will only be in the zenith of her beauty."

The look and tone accompanying the words filled Darrell with indignation and disgust.

"You will have to excuse me," he said, coldly; "you seem, as you say, to have made a study of women from your own standpoint, but our standards of beauty differ so radically that further discussion of the subject is useless."

"Ah, well, every man according to his taste, of course," Walcott remarked, indifferently, and, turning lightly, he walked away, a faint gleam of amusement lighting his dark features.

Half an hour later, as Darrell glided over the floor with Kate, some irresistible force drew his glance towards the bay-window where within the shadow of the palms Walcott was now standing alone, suave as ever. Their eyes met for an instant only, and Walcott smiled. The dance went on, but the smile, like a poisoned shaft, entered Darrell's soul and rankled there.

Both Darrell and Walcott were marked men that night and attracted universal attention and comment. Darrell's pale, intellectual face, penetrating eyes, and dark hair already streaked with gray would have attracted attention anywhere, as would also Walcott with his olive skin, his cynical smile, and graceful, sinuous movement. In addition, Darrell's peculiar mental condition and the fact that his identity was enveloped in a degree of mystery rendered him doubly interesting. In the case of each this was his introduction to the social life of Ophir. Each had been a resident of the town, the one as a student and recluse, the other as a business man, but each was a stranger to the stratum known as society. Each held himself aloof that evening from the throng: the one, through natural reserve, courteous but indifferent to the passing crowd; the other alert, watchful, studying the crowd; weighing, gauging this new element, speculating whether or not it were worth his while to court its favor, whether or not he could make of it an ally for his own future advantage.

Soon after his arrival Walcott had begged of Kate Underwood the honor of a waltz, but her programme being then nearly filled she could only give him one well towards the end. As he intended to render himself conspicuous by dancing only once, and then with the belle of the evening, it was at quite a late hour when he first made his appearance on the floor. Kate was on his arm, and at that instant his criticism, made earlier in the evening, that she was too colorless, certainly could not have applied.

As he led her out upon the floor he bent his gaze upon her with a look which brought the color swiftly to her face in crimson waves that flooded the full, snow-white throat and, surging upward, reached even to the blue-veined temples. Instinctively she shrank from him with a sensation almost of fear, but something in his gaze held her as though spell-bound. She looked into his eyes like one fascinated, scarcely knowing what he said or what reply she made. The waltz began, and as their fingers touched Kate's nerves tingled as though from an electric shock. She shivered slightly, then, angry with herself, used every exertion to overcome the strange spell. To a great extent she succeeded, but she felt benumbed, as though moving in a dream or in obedience to some will stronger than her own, while her temples throbbed painfully and her respiration grew hurried and difficult. She grew dizzy, but pride came to her rescue, and, except for the color which now ran riot in her cheeks and a slight tremor through her frame, there was no hint of her agitation. Her partner was all that could be desired, guiding her through the circling crowds, and supporting her in the swift turns with the utmost grace and courtesy, but it was a relief when it was over. At her request, Walcott escorted her to a seat near her aunt, then smilingly withdrew with much inward self-congratulation.

At that moment Darrell, seeing Kate unengaged, hastened to her side.

"You look warm and the air here is oppressive," he said, observing her flushed face and fanning her gently; "shall we go outside for a few moments?"

"Yes, please; anywhere out of this heat and glare," she answered; "my temples throb as if they would burst and my face feels as though it were on fire!"

Darrell hastened to the hall, returning an instant later with a light wrap which he proceeded to throw about Kate's shoulders.

"You are tired, Katherine," said Mrs. Dean, "more tired than you realize now; you had better not dance any more to-night."

"I have but two more dances, auntie," the young girl answered, smiling; "you surely would not wish me to forego those;" adding, in a lower tone, as she turned towards Darrell, "one of them is your waltz, and I would not miss that for anything!"

They passed through the hall and out upon a broad balcony. They could hear the subdued laughter of couples strolling through the brightly lighted grounds below, while over the distant landscape shone the pale weird light of the waning moon, just rising in the east. None of the guests had discovered the balcony opening from the hall on the third floor, so they had it exclusively to themselves.

As Darrell drew Kate's arm closer within his own he was surprised to feel her trembling slightly, while the hand lying on his own was cold as marble.

"My dear child!" he exclaimed; "your hands are cold and you are trembling! What is the matter--are you cold?"

"No, not cold exactly, only shivery," she answered, with a laugh. "My head was burning up in there, and I feel sort of hot flashes and then a creepy, shivery feeling by turns; but I am not cold out here, really," she added, earnestly, as Darrell drew her wrap more closely about her.

"Nevertheless, I cannot allow you to stay out here any longer," Darrell replied, finding his first taste of masculine authority very sweet.

For an instant Kate felt a very feminine desire to put his authority to the test, but the sense of his protection and his solicitude for her welfare seemed particularly soothing just then, and so, with only a saucy little smile, she silently allowed him to lead her into the house. At his suggestion, however, they did not return to the ball-room, but passed around through an anteroom, coming out into a small, circular apartment, dimly lighted and cosily furnished, opening upon one corner of the ball-room.

"It strikes me," said Darrell, as he drew aside the silken hangings dividing the two rooms and pushed a low divan before the open space, "this will be fully as pleasant as the balcony and much safer."

"The very thing!" Kate exclaimed, sinking upon the divan with a sigh of relief; "we will have a fine view of the dancers and yet be quite secluded ourselves."

A minuet was already in progress on the floor, and for a few moments Kate watched the stately, graceful dance, while Darrell, having adjusted her wrap lightly about her, seated himself beside her and silently watched her face with deep content.

Gradually the throbbing in her temples subsided, the nervous tremor ceased, her color became natural, and she felt quite herself again. She leaned back against the divan and looked with laughing eyes into Darrell's face.

"Mr. Darrell, do you believe in hypnotism?" she suddenly inquired.

"In hypnotism? Yes; but not in many of those who claim to practise it. Most of them are mere impostors. But why do you ask?" he continued, drawing her head down upon his shoulder and looking playfully into her eyes; "are you trying to hypnotize me?"

Kate laughed merrily and shook her head. "I'm afraid I wouldn't find you a good subject," she said; then added, slowly, as her face grew serious:

"Do you know, I believe I was hypnotized to-night by that dreadful Mr. Walcott. He certainly cast a malign spell of some kind over me from the moment we went on the floor together till he left me."

"Why do you say that?" Darrell asked, quickly; "you know I did not see you on the floor with him, for Miss Stockton asked me to go with her for a promenade. We came back just as the waltz had ended and Mr. Walcott was escorting you to your aunt. I noticed that you seemed greatly fatigued and excused myself to Miss Stockton and came over at once. What had happened?"

Kate related what had occurred. "I can't give you any idea of it," she said, in conclusion; "it seemed unaccountable, but it was simply dreadful. You know his eyes are nearly always closed in that peculiar way of his, and really I don't think I had any idea how they looked; but to-night as he looked at me they were wide open; and, do you know, I can't describe them, but they looked so soft and melting they were beautiful, and yet there was something absolutely terrible in their depths. It seemed some way like looking down into a volcano! And the worst of it was, they seemed to hold me--I couldn't take my eyes from his. He was as kind and courteous as could be, I'll admit that, but even the touch of his fingers made me shiver."

Darrell's face had darkened during Kate's recital, but he controlled his anger.

"Now, was that due to my own imagination or to some uncanny spell of his?" Kate insisted.

"To neither wholly, and yet perhaps a little of each," Darrell answered, lightly, not wishing to alarm her or lead her to attach undue importance to the occurrence. "I think Mr. Walcott has an abnormal amount of conceit, and that most of those little mannerisms of his are mainly to attract attention to himself. He was probably trying to produce some sort of an impression on your mind, and to that extent he certainly succeeded, only the impression does not seem to have been as favorable as he perhaps would have wished. No one but a conceited cad would have attempted such a thing, and with your supersensitive nature the effect on you was anything but pleasant, but don't allow yourself to think about it or be annoyed by it. At the same time I would advise you not to place yourself in his power or where he could have any advantage of you. By the way, this is our waltz, is it not?"

"It is," Kate replied, rising and watching Darrell as he removed her wrap and prepared to escort her to the ball-room. His playful badinage had not deceived her. As she took his arm she said, in a low tone,--

"You affect to treat this matter rather lightly, but, all the same, you have warned me against this man. 'Forewarned is forearmed,' you know, and no man can ever attempt to harm me or mine with impunity!"

Darrell turned quickly in surprise; there was a quality in her tone wholly unfamiliar.

"But I fear you exaggerate what I intended to convey," he said, hastily; "I do not know that he would ever deliberately seek to harm you, but he might render himself obnoxious in some way, as he did to-night."

She shook her head. "I was taken off guard to-night," she said; "but he had best never attempt anything of the kind a second time!"

They were now waiting for the waltz to begin; she continued, in the same low tone:

"I have had a western girl's education. When I was a child this place was little more than a rough mining camp, with plenty of desperate characters. My father trained me as he would have trained a boy, and," she added, significantly, with a bright, proud smile, "I am just as proficient now as I was then!"

Darrell scarcely heeded the import of her words, so struck was he by the change in her face, which had suddenly grown wonderfully like her father's,--stern, impassive, unrelenting. She smiled, and the look vanished, and for the time he thought no more of it, but as the passing cloud sometimes reveals features in a landscape unnoticed in the sunlight, so it had disclosed a phase of character latent, unguessed even by those who knew her best.

Two hours later the last carriage had gone; the guests from out of town who were to remain at The Pines for the night had retired, and darkness and silence had gradually settled over the house. A light still burned in Mr. Underwood's private room, where he paced back and forth, his brows knit in deep thought, but his stern face lighted with a smile of intense satisfaction. Darrell, who had remained below to assist Mrs. Dean in the performance of a few last duties, having accompanied her in a final tour of the deserted rooms to make sure that all was safe, bade her good-night and went upstairs. To his surprise, Kate's library was still lighted, and through the open door he could see her at her desk writing.

She looked up on hearing his step, and, as he approached, rose and came to the door.

She had exchanged her evening gown for a dainty robe de chambre of white cashmere and lace, and, standing there against the background of mellow light, her hair coiled low on her neck, while numerous intractable locks curled about her ears and temples, it was small wonder that Darrell's eyes bespoke his admiration and love, even if his lips did not.

"Writing at this time of night!" he exclaimed; "we supposed you asleep long ago."

"Sh! don't speak so loud," she protested. "You'll have Aunt Marcia up here! I have nearly finished my writing, so you needn't scold."

Glancing at the large journal lying open on her desk, Darrell asked, with a quizzical smile,--

"Couldn't that have been postponed for a few hours?"

"Not to-night," she replied, with emphasis; "ordinarily, you know, it could and would have been postponed, perhaps indefinitely, but not to-night!"

She glanced shyly into his eyes, and her own fell, as she added, in a lower tone,--

"To-night has memories so golden I want to preserve them before they have been dimmed by even one hour's sleep!"

Darrell's face grew marvellously tender; he drew her head down upon his breast while he caressed the rippling hair with its waves of light and shade.

"This night will always have golden memories for me, Kathie," he said, "and neither days nor years can ever dim their lustre; of that I am sure."

Kate raised her head, drawing herself slightly away from his embrace so that she could look him in the face.

"'Kathie!'" she repeated, softly; "that is the second time you have called me by that name to-night. I never heard it before; where did you get it?"

"Oh, it came to me," he said, smiling; "and somehow it seemed just the name for you; but I'll not call you so unless you like it."

"I do like it immensely," she replied; "I am tired of 'Kate' and 'Kittie' and Aunt Marcia's terrible 'Katherine;' I am glad you are original enough to call me by something different, but it sounds so odd; I wondered if there might have been a 'Kathie' in the past. But," she added, quickly, "I must not stay here. I just came out to say good-night to you."

"We had better say good-morning," Darrell laughed, as the clock in the hall below chimed one of the "wee, sma' hours;" "promise me that you will go to rest at once, won't you?"

"Very soon," she answered, smiling; then, a sudden impulsiveness conquering her reserve, she exclaimed, "Do you know, this has been the happiest night of my whole life. I hardly dare go to sleep for fear I will wake up and find it all a dream."

For answer Darrell folded her close to his breast, kissing her hair and brow with passionate tenderness; then suddenly, neither knew just how, their lips met in long, lingering, rapturous kisses.

"Will that make it seem more real, sweetheart?" he asked, in a low voice vibrating with emotion.

"Yes, oh yes!" she panted, half frightened by his fervor; "but let me go; please do!"

He released her, only retaining her hands for an instant, which he bent and kissed; then bidding her good-night, he hastened down the hall to his room.

At the door, however, he looked back and saw her still standing where he had left her. She wafted him a kiss on her finger-tips and disappeared. Going to her desk, she read with shining eyes and smiling lips the last lines written in her journal, then dipped her pen as though to write further, hesitated, and, closing the book, whispered,--

"That is too sacred to intrust even to you, you dear, old journal! I shall keep it locked in my own breast."

Then, locking her desk and turning off the light, she stole noiselessly to her room. _

Read next: Chapter 16. The Aftermath

Read previous: Chapter 14. Drifting

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