cries, _The shadowed road!--the shadowed road!"_

She rose, and Cary rose with her. "Forgive me," she said. "Is it not
cruel that we hurt each other so? Forgive--forget."

"I would forgive you," he answered, with emotion, "the suffering and the
sorrow of a thousand lives. But forget you--never! I'll love you well
and I'll love you long. Nor will I despair. To-night is dark, but the
sun may shine to-morrow. Think of me as of one who will love you to the
end." He took her hand and kissed it, then stood aside, saying, "I will
not face the lights quite yet." She passed into the hail and up the
stairway, and he turned and went down the porch steps into the May
night.

CHAPTER IX

EXPOSTULATION

The next morning Ludwell Cary rose early, ordered his horse, and opened
the door of his brother's room. "Fair," he said, as the younger Cary sat
up in bed, with a nightcap wonderfully askew upon his handsome head, "I
am off for Greenwood. Make my excuses, will you, to Colonel Churchill
and the ladies? I will not be back till supper-time." He turned to leave
the room. "And Fair--if you have anything to say to Miss Dandridge, this
is the shepherd's hour. We go home to-morrow."

"What the Devil?"--began the younger Cary.

"No, not the Devil," said the other, with a twist of the lip half
humorous, half piteous. "Just woman."

He was gone. Fairfax Cary looked at his watch, then rose from his bed
and looked out of the window at the rose and dew of the dawn. "What the
Devil!" he said again to himself; and then, with a forehead of
perplexity, "He was up late last night--out in the garden alone. He
rides off to Greenwood with the dawn, and we go home to-morrow. She
can't have refused him--that's not possible!" He went back to bed to
study matters over. At last, "The jade!" he exclaimed with conviction,
and two hours later, when he came down to breakfast, wished Miss
Churchill good-morning with glacial courtesy.

Jacqueline, behind the coffee urn, had heavy-lidded eyes, and her smile
was tremulous. Unity, brilliant and watchful, regarded the universe and
the hauteur of young Mr. Cary with lifted brows. Major Churchill, when
he appeared, shot one glance at the place that was Ludwell Cary's,
another at his niece, then sat heavily down, and in a querulous voice
demanded coffee. Colonel Dick wore a frown. Deb, who before breakfast
had visited a new foal in the long pasture, kept for a time the ball of
conversation rolling; but t