kissed him on the forehead, and through him went a thrill of
great thankfulness, of joy such as he knew would never have come to him
had he gained through treachery even this small token of conquest.

"There," he said, taking Allis by the arm, and gently drawing her back
to the chair; "now I am repaid a thousandfold for not doing a great
wrong. You have beaten me twice within a few days. I fancy I should
almost be afraid to be your husband, you master me so easily."

"That's Mortimer coming," Crane said, suddenly, as a step with more
consistency in its endeavor than pertained to the hostler's, sounded,
coming up the stairs. "I sent for him," he added, seeing the look of
happy confusion in Allis's face.

"Come in," he called cheerily, in answer to a knock on the door.

"You sent for me--" Then Mortimer stopped suddenly, and stood staring
first at Allis, then at Crane, alternately, back and forth from one to
the other.

Crane turned his back upon the younger man and busied himself wondrously
over the manipulation of a chair. A strange dread crept into Mortimer's
heart; it smothered him; he felt dizzy. Why did Allis look so happy--why
were there smiles on her lips when she must know there were ashes
of gloom in his soul? Why was she alone there with Crane? Was it but
another devilish trick of the misfortune that pursued him?

"Good afternoon, Miss" the words stuck in Mortimer's throat, and he
completed his greeting with a most dreadfully formal bow.

The girl laughed outright; how droll it was to see a man trying to
make himself unhappy when there was nothing but happiness in the world.
Through the open window she could hear the birds singing, and through
it came the perfume of clover-buried fields; across the floor streamed
warm, bright sunlight from a blue sky in which was no cloud. And from
their lives, Mortimer's and her own, had been swept the dark cloud--and
here, in the midst of all this joy was her lover with a long, sad face,
trying to reproach her with a stiff, awkward bow.

Her laugh twirled Crane about like a top. He saw the odd situation;
there was something incongruous in Mortimer's stiff attitude. Crane
had a big cloud of his own not quite driven from his sky, but a smile
hovered on his thin lips. This happiness was worth catching.

Mortimer noticed the distasteful mirth reflected in the other man's
face, and he repeated with asperity, "You sent for me, sir--may I ask--"

"Will you take a chair," s