Rld That Never Knows The Pain And Sorrow Of Her Hidden Heart. And So I Joined In Roy'S Bright Changing Chat; Answered His Sallies - Talked Of This And That, My Brow Unruffled As The Calm Still Wave That Tells Not Of The Wrecked Ship, And The Grave Beneath Its Surface. Then We Heard, Ere Long, The Sound Of Helen'S Gentle Voice In Song, And, Rising, Entered Where The Subtle Power Of Vivian'S Eyes, Forgiving While Accusing, Finding Me Weak, Had Won Me, In That Hour; But Roy, Alway Polite And Debonair Where Ladies Were, Now Hung About My Chair With Nameless Delicate Attentions, Using That Air Devotional, And Those Small Arts Acquaintance With Society Imparts To Men Gallant By Nature. 'T Was My Sex And Not Myself He Bowed To. Had My Place Been Filled That Evening By A Dowager, Twice His Own Age, He Would Have Given Her The Same Attentions. But They Served To Vex Whatever Hope In Vivian'S Heart Remained. The Cold, White Look Crept Back Upon His Face, Which Told How Deeply He Was Hurt And Pained. Little By Little All Things Had Conspired, To Bring Events I Dreaded, Yet Desired. We Were In Constant Intercourse: Walks, Rides, Picnics And Sails, Filled Weeks Of Golden Weather, And Almost Hourly We Were Thrown Together. No Words Were Spoken Of Rebuke Or Scorn: Good Friends We Seemed. But As A Gulf Divides This Land And That, Though Lying Side By Side, So Rolled A Gulf Between Us - Deep And Wide - The Gulf Of Doubt, Which Widened Slowly Morn And Noon And Night. Free And Informal Were These Picnics And Excursions. Yet, Although Helen And I Would Sometimes Choose To Go Without Our Escorts, Leaving Them Quite Free. It Happened Alway Roy Would Seek Out Me Ere Passed The Day, While Vivian Walked With Her. I Had No Thought Of Flirting. Roy Was Just Like Some Dear Brother, And I Quite Forgot The Kinship Was So Distant It Was Not Safe To Rely Upon In Perfect Trust, Without Reserve Or Caution. Many A Time When There Was Some Steep Mountain Side To Climb, And I Grew Weary, He Would Say, "Maurine, Come Rest You Here." And I Would Go And Lean My Head Upon His Shoulder, Or Would Stand And Let Him Hold In His My Willing Hand. The While He Stroked It Gently With His Own. Or I Would Let Him Clasp Me With His Arm, Nor Entertained A Thought Of Any Harm, Nor Once Supposed But Vivian Was Alone In His Suspicions. But Ere Long The Truth I Learned In Consternation! Both Aunt Ruth And Helen, Honestly, In Faith Believed That Roy And I Were Lovers. Undeceived, Some Careless Words Might Open Vivian'S Eyes And Spoil My Plans. So Reasoning In This Wise, To All Their Sallies I In Jest Replied, To Naught Assented, And Yet Naught Denied, With Roy Unchanged Remaining, Confident Each Understood Just What The Other Meant. If I Grew Weary Of This Double Part, And Self-Imposed Deception Caused My Heart Sometimes To Shrink, I Needed But To Gaze On Helen'S Face: That Wore A Look Ethereal, As If She Dwelt Above The Things Material And Held Communion With The Angels. So I Fed My Strength And Courage Through The Days. What Time The Harvest Moon Rose Full And Clear And Cast Its Ling'Ring Radiance On The Earth, We Made A Feast; And Called From Far And Near, Our Friends, Who Came To Share The Scene Of Mirth. Fair Forms And Faces Flitted To And Fro; But None More Sweet Than Helen'S. Robed In White, She Floated Like A Vision Through The Dance. So Frailly Fragile And So Phantom Fair, She Seemed Like Some Stray Spirit Of The Air, And Was Pursued By Many An Anxious Glance That Looked To See Her Fading From The Sight Like Figures That A Dreamer Sees At Night. And Noble Men And Gallants Graced The Scene: Yet None More Noble Or More Grand Of Mien Than Vivian - Broad Of Chest And Shoulder, Tall And Finely Formed, As Any Grecian God Whose High-Arched Foot On Mount Olympus Trod. His Clear-Cut Face Was Beardless; And, Like Those Same Grecian Statues, When In Calm Repose, Was It In Hue And Feature. Framed In Hair Dark And Abundant; Lighted By Large Eyes That Could Be Cold As Steel In Winter Air, Or Warm And Sunny As Italian Skies. Weary Of Mirth And Music, And The Sound Of Tripping Feet, I Sought A Moment'S Rest Within The Lib'Ry, Where A Group I Found Of Guests, Discussing With Apparent Zest Some Theme Of Interest - Vivian, Near The While, Leaning And Listening With His Slow Odd Smile. "Now Miss La Pelle, We Will Appeal To You," Cried Young Guy Semple, As I Entered. "We Have Been Discussing Right Before His Face, All Unrebuked By Him, As You May See, A Poem Lately Published By Our Friend: And We Are Quite Divided. I Contend The Poem Is A Libel And Untrue I Hold The Fickle Women Are But Few, Compared With Those Who Are Like Yon Fair Moon That, Ever Faithful, Rises In Her Place Whether SHe's Greeted By The Flowers Of June, Or Cold And Dreary Stretches Of White Space." "Oh!" Cried Another, "Mr. Dangerfield, Look To Your Laurels! Or You Needs Must Yield The Crown To Semple, Who, 'Tis Very Plain, Has Mounted Pegasus And Grasped His Mane." All Laughed: And Then, As Guy Appealed To Me I Answered Lightly, "My Young Friend, I Fear You Chose A Most Unlucky Simile To Prove The Truth Of Woman. To Her Place The Moon Does Rise - But With A Different Face Each Time She Comes. But Now I Needs Must Hear The Poem Read, Before I Can Consent To Pass My Judgment On The Sentiment." All Clamored That The Author Was The Man To Read The Poem: And, With Tones That Said More Than The Cutting, Scornful Words He Read, Taking The Book Guy Gave Him, He Began: Her Love. The Sands Upon The Ocean Side That Change About With Every Tide, And Never True To One Abide, A Woman'S Love I Liken To. The Summer Zephyrs, Light And Vain, That Sing The Same Alluring Strain To Every Grass Blade On The Plain - A Woman'S Love Is Nothing More. The Sunshine Of An April Day That Comes To Warm You With Its Ray, But While You Smile Has Flown Away - A Woman'S Love Is Like To This. God Made Poor Woman With No Heart, But Gave Her Skill, And Tact, And Art, And So She Lives, And Plays Her Part. We Must Not Blame, But Pity Her. She Leans To Man - But Just To Hear The Praise He Whispers In Her Ear, Herself, Not Him, She Holdeth Dear - O Fool! To Be Deceived By Her. To Sate Her Selfish Thirst She Quaffs The Love Of Strong Hearts In Sweet Draughts Then Throws Them Lightly By And Laughs, Too Weak To Understand Their Pain. As Changeful As The Winds That Blow From Every Region, To And Fro, Devoid Of Heart, She Cannot Know The Suffering Of A Human Heart. I Knew The Cold, Fixed Gaze Of Vivian'S Eyes Saw The Slow Color To My Forehead Rise; But Lightly Answered, Toying With My Fan, "That Sentiment Is Very Like A Man! Men Call Us Fickle, But They Do Us Wrong; We're Only Frail And Helpless, Men Are Strong; And When Love Dies, They Take The Poor Dead Thing And Make A Shroud Out Of Their Suffering, And Drag The Corpse About With Them For Years. But We? - We Mourn It For A Day With Tears! And Then We Robe It For Its Last Long Rest, And Being Women, Feeble Things At Best, We Cannot Dig The Grave Ourselves. And So We Call Strong-Limbed New Love To Lay It Low: Immortal Sexton He! Whom Venus Sends To Do This Service For Her Earthly Friends, The Trusty Fellow Digs The Grave So Deep Nothing Disturbs The Dead Laid There To Sleep." The Laugh That Followed Had Not Died Away Ere Roy Montaine Came Seeking Me, To Say The Band Was Tuning For Our Waltz, And So Back To The Ball-Room Bore Me. In The Glow And Heat And Whirl, My Strength Ere Long Was Spent, And I Grew Faint And Dizzy, And We Went Out On The Cool Moonlighted Portico, And, Sitting There, Roy Drew My Languid Head Upon The Shelter Of His Breast, And Bent His Smiling Eyes Upon Me, As He Said, "I'll Try The Mesmerism Of My Touch To Work A Cure: Be Very Quiet Now, And Let Me Make Some Passes O'Er Your Brow. Why, How It Throbs! You've Exercised Too Much! I Shall Not Let You Dance Again To-Night." Just Then Before Us, In The Broad Moonlight, Two Forms Were Mirrored: And I Turned My Face To Catch The Teasing And Mischievous Glance Of Helen'S Eyes, As, Heated By The Dance, Leaning On Vivian'S Arm, She Sought This Place. "I Beg Your Pardon," Came In That Round Tone Of His Low Voice. "I Think We Do Intrude." Bowing, They Turned, And Left Us Quite Alone Ere I Could Speak, Or Change My Attitude. Part V. A Visit To A Cave Some Miles Away Was Next In Order. So, One Sunny Day, Four Prancing Steeds Conveyed A Laughing Load Of Merry Pleasure-Seekers O'Er The Road. A Basket Picnic, Music And Croquet Were In The Programme. Skies Were Blue And Clear, And Cool Winds Whispered Of The Autumn Near. The Merry-Makers Filled The Time With Pleasure: Some Floated To The Music'S Rhythmic Measure, Some Played, Some Promenaded On The Green. Ticked Off By Happy Hearts, The Moments Passed. The Afternoon, All Glow And Glimmer, Came. Helen And Roy Were Leaders Of Some Game, And Vivian Was Not Visible. "Maurine, I Challenge You To Climb Yon Cliff With Me! And Who Shall Tire, Or Reach The Summit Last Must Pay A Forfeit," Cried A Romping Maid. "Come! Start At Once, Or Own You Are Afraid." So Challenged I Made Ready For The Race, Deciding First The Forfeit Was To Be A Handsome Pair Of Bootees To Replace The Victor'S Loss Who Made The Rough Ascent. The Cliff Was Steep And Stony. On We Went As Eagerly As If The Path Was Fame, And What We Climbed For, Glory And A Name. My Hands Were Bruised; My Garments Sadly Rent, But On I Clambered. Soon I Heard A Cry, "Maurine! Maurine! My Strength Is Wholly Spent! You've Won The Boots! I'M Going Back - Good Bye!" And Back She Turned, In Spite Of Laugh And Jeer. I Reached The Summit: And Its Solitude, Wherein No Living Creature Did Intrude, Save Some Sad Birds That Wheeled And Circled Near, I Found Far Sweeter Than The Scene Below. Alone With One Who Knew My Hidden Woe, I Did Not Feel So Much Alone As When I Mixed With Th' Unthinking Throngs Of Men. Some Flowers That Decked The Barren, Sterile Place I Plucked, And Read The Lesson They Conveyed, That In Our Lives, Albeit Dark With Shade And Rough And Hard With Labor, Yet May Grow The Flowers Of Patience, Sympathy, And Grace. As I Walked On In Meditative Thought, A Serpent Writhed Across My Pathway; Not A Large Or Deadly Serpent; Yet The Sight Filled Me With Ghastly Terror And Affright. I Shrieked Aloud: A Darkness Veiled My Eyes - And I Fell Fainting 'Neath The Watchful Skies. I Was No Coward. Country-Bred And Born, I Had No Feeling But The Keenest Scorn For Those Fine Lady "Ah'S" And "Oh'S" Of Fear So Much Assumed (When Any Man Is Near). But God Implanted In Each Human Heart A Natural Horror, And A Sickly Dread Of That Accurs?D, Slimy, Creeping Thing That Squirms A Limbless Carcass O'Er The Ground. And Where That Inborn Loathing Is Not Found You'll Find The Serpent Qualities Instead. Who Fears It Not, Himself Is Next Of Kin, And In His Bosom Holds Some Treacherous Art Whereby To Counteract Its Venomed Sting. And All Are Sired By Satan - Chief Of Sin. Who Loathes Not That Foul Creature Of The Dust, However Fair In Seeming, I Distrust. I Woke From My Unconsciousness, To Know I Leaned Upon A Broad And Manly Breast, And Vivian'S Voice Was Speaking, Soft And Low, Sweet Whispered Words Of Passion, O'Er And O'Er. I Dared Not Breathe. Had I Found Eden'S Shore? Was This A Foretaste Of Eternal Bliss? "My Love," He Sighed, His Voice Like Winds That Moan Before A Rain In Summer Time, "My Own, For One Sweet Stolen Moment, Lie And Rest Upon This Heart That Loves And Hates You Both! O Fair False Face! Why Were You Made So Fair! O Mouth Of Southern Sweetness! That Ripe Kiss That Hangs Upon You, I Do Take An Oath His Lips Shall Never Gather. There! - And There! I Steal It From Him. Are You His - All His? Nay You Are Mine, This Moment, As I Dreamed - Blind Fool - Believing You Were What You Seemed - You Would Be Mine In All The Years To Come. Fair Fiend! I Love And Hate You In A Breath. O God! If This White Pallor Were But Death, And I Were Stretched Beside You, Cold And Dumb, My Arms About You, So - In Fond Embrace! My Lips Pressed, So - Upon Your Dying Face!" "Woman, How Dare You Bring Me To Such Shame! How Dare You Drive Me To An Act Like This, To Steal From Your Unconscious Lips The Kiss You Lured Me On To Think My Rightful Claim! O Frail And Puny Woman! Could You Know The Devil That You Waken In The Hearts You Snare And Bind In Your Enticing Arts, The Thin, Pale Stuff That In Your Veins Doth Flow Would Freeze In Terror. Strange You Have Such Power To Please, Or Pain Us, Poor, Weak, Soulless Things - Devoid Of Passion As A Senseless Flower! Like Butterflies, Your Only Boast, Your Wings. There, Now, I Scorn You - Scorn You From This Hour, And Hate Myself For Having Talked Of Love!" He Pushed Me From Him. And I Felt As Those Doomed Angels Must, When Pearly Gates Above Are Closed Against Them. With A Feigned Surprise I Started Up And Opened Wide My Eyes, And Looked About. Then In Confusion Rose And Stood Before Him. "Pardon Me, I Pray!" He Said Quite Coldly. "Half An Hour Ago I Left You With The Company Below, And Sought This Cliff. A Moment Since You Cried, It Seemed, In Sudden Terror And Alarm. I Came In Time To See You Swoon Away. You'll Need Assistance Down The Rugged Side Of This Steep Cliff. I Pray You Take My Arm." So, Formal And Constrained, We Passed Along, Rejoined Our Friends, And Mingled With The Throng To Have No Further Speech Again That Day. Next Morn There Came A Bulky Document, The Legal Firm Of Blank & Blank Had Sent, Containing News Unlooked For. An Estate Which Proved A Cosy Fortune - No-Wise Great Or Princely - Had In France Been Left To Me, My Grandsire'S Last Descendant. And It Brought A Sense Of Joy And Freedom In The Thought Of Foreign Travel, Which I Hoped Would Be A Panacea For My Troubled Mind, That Longed To Leave The Olden Scenes Behind With All Their Recollections, And To Flee To Some Strange Country. I Was In Such Haste To Put Between Me And My Native Land The Briny Ocean'S Desolating Waste, I Gave Aunt Ruth No Peace, Until She Planned To Sail That Week, Two Months: Though She Was Fain To Wait Until The Springtime. Roy Montaine Would Be Our Guide And Escort. No One Dreamed The Cause Of My Strange Hurry, But All Seemed To Think Good Fortune Had Quite Turned My Brain. One Bright October Morning, When The Woods Had Donned Their Purple Mantles And Red Hoods In Honor Of The Frost King, Vivian Came, Bringing Some Green Leaves, Tipped With Crimson Flame, - First Trophies Of The Autumn Time. And Roy Made A Proposal That We All Should Go And Ramble In The Forest For A While. But Helen Said She Was Not Well - And So Must Stay At Home. Then Vivian, With A Smile, Responded, "I Will Stay And Talk To You, And They May Go;" At Which Her Two Cheeks Grew Like Twin Blush Roses; - Dyed With Love'S Red Wave, Her Fair Face Shone Transfigured With Great Joy. And Vivian Saw - And Suddenly Was Grave. Roy Took My Arm In That Protecting Way Peculiar To Some Men, Which Seems To Say, "I Shield My Own," A Manner Pleasing, E'En When We Are Conscious That It Does Not Mean More Than A Simple Courtesy. A Woman Whose Heart Is Wholly Feminine And Human, And Not Unsexed By Hobbies, Likes To Be The Object Of That Tender Chivalry, That Guardianship Which Man Bestows On Her, Yet Mixed With Deference; As If She Were Half Child, Half Angel. Though She May Be Strong, Noble And Self-Reliant, Not Afraid To Raise Her Hand And Voice Against All Wrong And All Oppression, Yet If She Be Made, With All The Independence Of Her Thought, A Woman Womanly, As God Designed, Albeit She May Have As Great A Mind As Man, Her Brother, Yet His Strength Of Arm His Muscle And His Boldness She Has Not, And Cannot Have Without She Loses What Is Far More Precious, Modesty And Grace. So, Walking On In Her Appointed Place, She Does Not Strive To Ape Him, Nor Pretend But That She Needs Him For A Guide And Friend, To Shield Her With His Greater Strength From Harm. We Reached The Forest; Wandered To And Fro Through Many A Winding Path And Dim Retreat. Till I Grew Weary: When I Chose A Seat Upon An Oak Tree, Which Had Been Laid Low By Some Wind Storm, Or By Some Lightning Stroke. And Roy Stood Just Below Me, Where The Ledge On Which I Sat Sloped Steeply To The Edge Of Sunny Meadows Lying At My Feet. One Hand Held Mine; The Other Grasped A Limb That Cast Its Checkered Shadows Over Him; And, With His Head Thrown Back, His Dark Eyes Raised And Fixed Upon Me, Silently He Gazed Until I, Smiling, Turned To Him And Spoke: "Give Words, My Cousin, To Those Thoughts That Rise, And, Like Dumb Spirits, Look Forth From Your Eyes." The Smooth And Even Darkness Of His Cheek Was Stained One Moment By A Flush Of Red. He Swayed His Lithe Form Nearer As He Stood Still Clinging To The Branch Above His Head. His Brilliant Eyes Grew Darker; And He Said, With Sudden Passion, "Do You Bid Me Speak? I Can Not, Then, Keep Silence If I Would. That Hateful Fortune, Coming As It Did, Forbade My Speaking Sooner; For I Knew A Harsh Tongued World Would Quickly Misconstrue My Motive For A Meaner One. But, Sweet, So Big My Heart Has Grown With Love For You I Can Not Shelter It, Or Keep It Hid. And So I Cast It Throbbing At Your Feet, For You To Guard And Cherish, Or To Break. Maurine, I Love You Better Than My Life. My Friend - My Cousin - Be Still More, My Wife! Maurine, Maurine, What Answer Do You Make?" I Scarce Could Breathe For Wonderment; And Numb With Truth That Fell Too Suddenly, Sat Dumb With Sheer Amaze, And Stared At Roy With Eyes That Looked No Feeling But Complete Surprise. He Swayed So Near His Breath Was On My Cheek. "Maurine, Maurine," He Whispered, "Will You Speak?" Then Suddenly, As O'Er Some Magic Glass One Picture In A Score Of Shapes Will Pass, I Seemed To See Roy Glide Before My Gaze. First, As The Playmate Of My Earlier Days - Next, As My Kin - And Then My Valued Friend, And Last, My Lover. As When Colors Blend In Some Unlooked-For Group Before Our Eyes, We Hold The Glass, And Look Them O'Er And O'Er So Now I Gazed On Roy In His New Guise, In Which He Ne'Er Appeared To Me Before. His Form Was Like A Panther'S In Its Grace, So Lithe And Supple, And Of Medium Height, And Garbed In All The Elegance Of Fashion. His Large Black Eyes Were Full Of Fire And Passion, And In Expression Fearless, Firm, And Bright. His Hair Was Like The Very Deeps Of Night, And Hung In Raven Clusters 'Round A Face Of Dark And Flashing Beauty. He Was More Like Some Romantic Maiden'S Grand Ideal Than Like A Common Being. As I Gazed Upon The Handsome Face To Mine Upraised, I Saw Before Me, Living, Breathing, Real, The Hero Of My Early Day-Dreams: Though So Full My Heart Was With That Clear-Cut Face, Which, All Unlike, Yet Claimed The Hero'S Place, I Had Not Recognized Him So Before, Or Thought Of Him, Save As A Valued Friend. So Now I Called Him, Adding, "Foolish Boy! Each Word Of Love You Utter Aims A Blow At That Sweet Trust I Had Reposed In You. I Was So Certain I Had Found A True, Steadfast Man Friend, On Whom I Could Depend, And Go On Wholly Trusting, To The End. Why Did You Shatter My Delusion, Roy, By Turning To A Lover?" "Why, Indeed! Because I Loved You More Than Any Brother, Or Any Friend Could Love." Then He Began To Argue Like A Lawyer, And To Plead With All His Eloquence. And, Listening, I Strove To Think It Was A Goodly Thing To Be So Fondly Loved By Such A Man, And It Were Best To Give His Wooing Heed, And Not Deny Him. Then Before My Eyes In All Its Clear-Cut Majesty, That Other Haughty And Poet-Handsome Face Would Rise And Rob My Purpose Of All Life And Strength. Roy Urged And Argued, As Roy Only Could, With That Impetuous, Boyish Eloquence. He Held My Hands, And Vowed I Must, And Should Give Some Least Hope; Till, In My Own Defense, I Turned Upon Him, And Replied At Length: "I Thank You For The Noble Heart You Offer: But It Deserves A True One In Exchange. I Could Love You If I Loved Not Another Who Keeps My Heart; So I Have None To Proffer." Then, Seeing How His Dark Eyes Flashed, I Said, "Dear Roy! I Know My Words Seem Very Strange; But I Love One I Cannot Hope To Wed. A River Rolls Between Us, Dark And Deep. To Cross It - Were To Stain With Blood My Hand. You Force My Speech On What I Fain Would Keep In My Own Bosom, But You Understand? My Heart Is Given To Love That'S Sanctified, And Now Can Feel No Other. Be You Kind Dear Roy, My Brother! Speak Of This No More, Lest Pleading And Denying Should Divide The Hearts So Long United. Let Me Find In You My Cousin And My Friend Of Yore And Now Come Home. The Morning, All Too Soon And Unperceived, Has Melted Into Noon. Helen Will Miss Us, And We Must Return." He Took My Hand, And Helped Me To Arise, Smiling Upon Me With His Sad Dark Eyes. Where Passion'S Fires Had, Sudden, Ceased To Burn. "And So," He Said, "Too Soon And Unforeseen My Friendship Melted Into Love, Maurine. But, Sweet! I Am Not Wholly In The Blame, For What You Term My Folly. You Forgot, So Long We'D Known Each Other, I Had Not In Truth A Brother'S Or A Cousin'S Claim. But I Remembered, When Through Every Nerve Your Lightest Touch Went Thrilling; And Began To Love You With That Human Love Of Man For Comely Woman. By Your Coaxing Arts, You Won Your Way Into My Heart Of Hearts, And All Platonic Feelings Put To Rout. A Maid Should Never Lay Aside Reserve With One Who'S Not Her Kinsman, Out And Out. But As We Now, With Measured Steps, Retrace The Path We Came, E'En So My Heart I'll Send, At Your Command, Back To The Olden Place, And Strive To Love You Only As A Friend." I Felt The Justice Of His Mild Reproof, But Answered Laughing, "'Tis The Same Old Cry: 'The Woman Tempted Me, And I Did Eat.' Since Adam'S Time We've Heard It. But I'll Try And Be More Prudent, Sir, And Hold Aloof The Fruit I Never Once Had Thought So Sweet 'Twould Tempt You Any. Now Go Dress For Dinner, Thou Sinned Against! As Also Will The Sinner. And Guard Each Act, That No Least Look Betray What'S Passed Between Us." Then I Turned Away And Sought My Room, Low Humming Some Old Air That Ceased Upon The Threshold; For Mine Eyes Fell On A Face So Glorified And Fair All Other Senses, Merged In That Of Sight, Were Lost In Contemplation Of The Bright And Wond'Rous Picture, Which Had Otherwise Made Dim My Vision. Waiting In My Room, Her Whole Face Lit As By An Inward Flame That Shed Its Halo 'Round Her, Helen Stood; Her Fair Hands Folded Like A Lily'S Leaves Weighed Down By Happy Dews Of Summer Eves. Upon Her Cheek The Color Went And Came As Sunlight Flickers O'Er A Bed Of Bloom; And, Like Some Slim Young Sapling Of The Wood, Her Slender Form Leaned Slightly; And Her Hair Fell 'Round Her Loosely, In Long Curling Strands All Unconfined, And As By Loving Hands Tossed Into Bright Confusion. Standing There, Her Starry Eyes Uplifted, She Did Seem Like Some Unearthly Creature Of A Dream; Until She Started Forward, Gliding Slowly, And Broke The Breathless Silence, Speaking Lowly, As One Grown Meek, And Humble In An Hour, Bowing Before Some New And Mighty Power. "Maurine, Maurine!" She Murmured, And Again, "Maurine, My Own Sweet Friend, Maurine!" And Then, Laying Her Love Light Hands Upon My Head, She Leaned, And Looked Into My Eyes, And Said With Voice That Bore Her Joy In Ev'Ry Tone, As Winds That Blow Across A Garden Bed Are Weighed With Fragrance, "He Is Mine Alone, And I Am His - All His - His Very Own. So Pledged This Hour, By That Most Sacred Tie Save One Beneath God'S Over-Arching Sky. I Could Not Wait To Tell You Of My Bliss: I Want Your Blessing, Sweetheart! And Your Kiss." So Hiding My Heart'S Trouble With A Smile, I Leaned And Kissed Her Dainty Mouth; The While I Felt A Guilt-Joy, As Of Some Sweet Sin, When My Lips Fell Where His So Late Had Been. And All Day Long I Bore About With Me A Sense Of Shame - Yet Mixed With Satisfaction, As Some Starved Child Might Steal A Loaf, And Be Sad With The Guilt Resulting From Her Action, While Yet The Morsel In Her Mouth Was Sweet. That Ev'Ning When The House Had Settled Down To Sleep And Quiet, To My Room There Crept A Lithe Young Form, Robed In A Long White Gown: With Steps Like Fall Of Thistle-Down She Came, Her Mouth Smile-Wreathed; And, Breathing Low My Name, Nestled In Graceful Beauty At My Feet. "Sweetheart," She Murmured Softly, "Ere I Sleep, I Needs Must Tell You All My Tale Of Joy. Beginning Where You Left Us - You And Roy. You Saw The Color Flame Upon My Cheek When Vivian Spoke Of Staying. So Did He; - And, When We Were Alone, He Gazed At Me With Such A Strange Look In His Wond'Rous Eyes. The Silence Deepened; And I Tried To Speak Upon Some Common Topic, But Could Not, My Heart Was In Such Tumult. In This Wise Five Happy Moments Glided By Us, Fraught With Hours Of Feeling. Vivian Rose Up Then, And Came And Stood By Me, And Stroked My Hair. And, In His Low Voice, O'Er And O'Er Again, Said, 'Helen, Little Helen, Frail And Fair.' Then Took My Face, And Turned It To The Light, And Looking In My Eyes, And Seeing What Was Shining From Them, Murmured, Sweet And Low, 'Dear Eyes, You Cannot Veil The Truth From Sight. You Love Me, Helen! Answer, Is It So?' And I Made Answer Straightway, 'With My Life And Soul And Strength I Love You, O My Love!' He Leaned And Took Me Gently To His Breast, And Said, 'Here Then This Dainty Head Shall Rest Henceforth Forever: O My Little Dove! My Lily-Bud - My Fragile Blossom-Wife!' "And Then I Told Him All My Thoughts; And He Listened, With Kisses For His Comments, Till My Tale Was Finished. Then He Said, 'I Will Be Frank With You, My Darling, From The Start, And Hide No Secret From You In My Heart. I Love You, Helen, But You Are Not First To Rouse That Love To Being. Ere We Met I Loved A Woman Madly - Never Dreaming She Was Not All In Truth She Was In Seeming. Enough! She Proved To Be That Thing Accursed Of God And Man - A Wily Vain Coquette. I Hate Myself For Having Loved Her. Yet So Much My Heart Spent On Her, It Must Give A Love Less Ardent, And Less Prodigal, Albeit Just As Tender And As True - A Milder, Yet A Faithful Love To You. Just As Some Evil Fortune Might Befall A Man'S Great Riches, Causing Him To Live In Some Low Cot, All Unpretending, Still As Much His Home - As Much His Loved Retreat, As Was The Princely Palace On The Hill, E'En So I Give You All That'S Left, My Sweet! Of My Heart-Fortune.' 'That Were More To Me,' I Made Swift Smiling Answer, 'Than To Be The Worshiped Consort Of A King.' And So Our Faith Was Pledged. But Vivian Would Not Go Until I Vowed To Wed Him New Year Day. And I Am Sad Because You Go Away Before That Time. I Shall Not Feel Half Wed Without You Here. Postpone Your Trip And Stay, And Be My Bridesmaid." "Nay, I Cannot, Dear! 'Twould Disarrange Our Plans For Half A Year. I'll Be In Europe New Year Day," I Said, "And Send Congratulations By The Cable." And From My Soul Thanked Providence For Sparing The Pain, To Me, Of Sharing In, And Wearing The Festal Garments Of A Wedding Scene, While All My Heart Was Hung With Sorrow'S Sable. Forgetting For A Season, That Between The Cup And Lip Lies Many A Chance Of Loss, I Lived In My Near Future, Confident All Would Be As I Planned It; And, Across The Briny Waste Of Waters, I Should Find Some Balm And Comfort For My Troubled Mind. The Sad Fall Days, Like Maidens Auburn-Tressed And Amber-Eyed, In Purple Garments Dressed, Passed By, And Dropped Their Tears Upon The Tomb Of Fair Queen Summer, Buried In Her Bloom. Roy Left Us For A Time, And Helen Went To Make The Nuptial Preparations. Then, Aunt Ruth Complained One Day Of Feeling Ill: Her Veins Ran Red With Fever; And The Skill Of Two Physicians Could Not Stem The Tide. The House, That Rang So Late With Laugh And Jest, Grew Ghostly With Low Whispered Sounds; And When The Autumn Day, That I Had Thought To Be Bounding Upon The Billows Of The Sea, Came Sobbing In, It Found Me Pale And Worn, Striving To Keep Away That Unloved Guest Who Comes Unbidden, Making Hearts To Mourn. Through All The Anxious Weeks I Watched Beside The Suff'rer'S Couch, Roy Was My Help And Stay; Others Were Kind, But He Alone Each Day Brought Strength And Comfort, By His Cheerful Face, And Hopeful Words, That Fell In That Sad Place Like Rays Of Light Upon A Darkened Way. November Passed; And Winter, Crisp And Chill, In Robes Of Ermine Walked On Plain And Hill. Returning Light And Life Dispelled The Gloom That Cheated Death Had Brought Us From The Tomb. Aunt Ruth Was Saved, And Slowly Getting Better - Was Dressed Each Day, And Walked About The Room. Then Came One Morning In The Eastern Mail, A Little White-Winged Birdling Of A Letter. I Broke The Seal And Read, "Maurine, My Own! I Hear Aunt Ruth Is Better, And Am Glad. I Felt So Sorry For You; And So Sad To Think I Left You When I Did - Alone To Bear Your Pain And Worry, And Those Nights Of Weary, Anxious Watching. Vivian Writes Your Plans Are Changed Now, And You Will Not Sail Before The Springtime. So You'll Come And Be My Bridesmaid, Darling! Do Not Say Me Nay. But Three Weeks More Of Girlhood Left To Me. Come, If You Can, Just Two Weeks From To-Day, And Make Your Preparations Here. My Sweet! Indeed I Am Not Glad Aunt Ruth Was Ill - I'M Sorry She Has Suffered So; And Still I'M Thankful Something Happened, So You Stayed. I'M Sure My Wedding Would Be Incomplete Without Your Presence. Selfish, I'M Afraid You'll Think Your Helen. But I Love You So, How Can I Be Quite Willing You Should Go? Come Christmas Eve, Or Earlier. Let Me Know And I Will Meet You, Dearie! At The Train. Your Happy, Loving Helen." Then The Pain That, Hidden Under Later Pain And Care, Had Made No Moan, But Silent, Seemed To Sleep, Woke From Its Trance-Like Lethargy, To Steep My Tortured Heart In Anguish And Despair. I Had Relied Too Fully On My Skill In Bending Circumstances To My Will: And Now I Was Rebuked And Made To See That God Alone Knoweth What Is To Be. Then Came A Messenger From Vivian, Who Came Not Himself, As He Was Wont To Do, But Sent His Servant Each New Day To Bring A Kindly Message, Or An Offering Of Juicy Fruits To Cool The Lips Of Fever, Or Dainty Hot-House Blossoms, With Their Bloom To Brighten Up The Convalescent'S Room. But Now The Servant Only Brought A Line From Vivian Dangerfield To Roy Montaine, "Dear Sir, And Friend" - In Letters Bold And Plain, Written On Cream-White Paper, So It Ran: "It Is The Will And Pleasure Of Miss Trevor, And Therefore Doubly So A Wish Of Mine, That You Shall Honor Me Next New Year Eve, My Wedding Hour, By Standing As Best Man. Miss Trevor Has Six Bridesmaids I Believe. Being Myself A Novice In The Art - If I Should Fail In Acting Well My Part, I'll Need Protection 'Gainst The Regiment Of Outraged Ladies. So, I Pray, Consent To Stand By Me In Time Of Need, And Shield Your Friend Sincerely, Vivian Dangerfield." The Last Least Hope Had Vanished; I Must Drain, E'En To The Dregs, This Bitter Cup Of Pain. Part Vi. There Was A Week Of Bustle And Of Hurry; A Stately Home Echoed To Voices Sweet, Calling, Replying; And To Tripping Feet Of Busy Bridesmaids, Running To And Fro, With All That Girlish Fluttering And Flurry Preceding Such Occasions. Helen'S Room Was Like A Lily-Garden, All In Bloom, Decked With The Dainty Robes Of Her Trousseau. My Robe Was Fashioned By Swift, Skillful Hands - A Thing Of Beauty, Elegant And Rich, A Mystery Of Loopings, Puffs And Bands; And As I Watched It Growing, Stitch By Stitch, I Felt As One Might Feel Who Should Behold With Vision Trance-Like, Where His Body Lay In Deathly Slumber, Simulating Clay, His Grave-Cloth Sewed Together, Fold On Fold. I Lived With Ev'Ry Nerve Upon The Strain, As Men Go Into Battle; And The Pain, That, More And More, To My Sad Heart Revealed, Grew Ghastly With Its Horrors, Was Concealed From Mortal Eyes By Superhuman Power, That God Bestowed Upon Me, Hour By Hour. What Night The Old Year Gave Unto The New The Key Of Human Happiness And Woe, The Pointed Stars, Upon Their Field Of Blue, Shone, White And Perfect, O'Er A World Below, Of Snow-Clad Beauty; All The Trees Were Dressed In Gleaming Garments, Decked With Diadems, Each Seeming Like A Bridal-Bidden Guest, Coming O'Er-Laden With A Gift Of Gems. The Bustle Of The Dressing Room; The Sound Of Eager Voices In Discourse; The Clang Of "Sweet Bells Jangled"; Thud Of Steel-Clad Feet That Beat Swift Music On The Frozen Ground - All Blent Together In My Brain, And Rang A Medley Of Strange Noises, Incomplete, And Full Of Discords. Then Out On The Night Streamed From This Open Vestibule, A Light That Lit The Velvet Blossoms Which We Trod, With All The Hues Of Those That Deck The Sod. The Grand Cathedral Windows Were Ablaze With Gorgeous Colors; Through A Sea Of Bloom, Up The Long Aisle, To Join The Waiting Groom, The Bridal Cortege Passed. As Some Lost Soul Might Surge On With The Curious Crowd, To Gaze Upon Its Coffined Body, So I Went With That Glad Festal Throng.