hought
wrought out by exercise were now giving him a facility that cleverer men
might envy. He could not know how the simple history gave her an
impression of slow irresistible manhood, always, without drifting,
moving toward its chosen end.

When they halted at her door, she had a feeling that she could not let
him go, just yet.

"You'll come in and dine with us, will you not?" she asked impulsively.

"I wish I might," he answered with that longing tone one falls into when
surveying an impossible and alluring temptation. "I simply have to work
to-night. I'm already late for my engagement. May I come sometime
soon?"

"I wish you would. Father is really very fond of you," she went on,
defending her warmth. "He likes young men. He has a sneaking longing for
them that no mere girl satisfies. Dick used to be a great deal to him,
but--Dick has drifted away. You have not been to see us for a long
time."

"Not since the day that Dick's engagement was announced," he answered,
looking her boldly in the face. "I couldn't. You made me feel then that
you despised me."

"I despised you?" she spoke with bland innocence but rising color.

"Yes."

Madeline hesitated and looked down. She was scarlet.

"I'm not going to pretend to misunderstand you," she said, and turned
laughing eyes toward him. "I knew all the time that it was Dick who had
done some shabby thing, and you were trying to shield him."

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew."

"But you told me I ought to get a mask," Ellery fumbled.

"I meant when you try to tell lies. You don't do it with the grace and
conviction of an accomplished hand. Pooh, I can read you like an open
book."

"I am very glad you can," he said deliberately. "I thank God you can,
because on every page you will read the truth--that I love you--I love
you. I'm wanting you to read it in your own way, but some time I am
going to let the passion of it loosen this slow tongue of mine and tell
you in my own fashion how much it is."

He turned and strode abruptly away. Madeline went in to the firelight of
home.

"Why, you look as bright as though you'd heard good news," exclaimed Mr.
Elton, peering over his newspaper in welcome.

"Do I, father?" Madeline stooped to rub her cheek softly against his and
laughed to herself. "Why, I believe I have. That shows what a whirligig
I am. I went out thinking life was a tragedy, and I come back thinking
it--"

"What, little girl?"

"A divine comedy," sa