hut after her, and Eugene sat down
with his Shakespeare book. But he could not read; he sat moodily
puzzling over his sister, whose unfulfilled drama of life held his
mind better than them all.

But puzzle as he might, he never once dreamed of the truth--that his
sister Madelon had promised to marry Lot Gordon in a month's time,
and sent her "yes" by word of mouth of Margaret Bean that morning.
Somehow, even with the ashes of the letter of proposal before his
eyes on the hearth, and his sister's "yes" ringing in his ears,
knowing as he did that Lot as well as Burr had lost his heart to her,
he could not conceive of such a possibility. He was too well
acquainted with Madelon's attitude towards Lot, and she had never
been one to walk whither she did not list for any man. He could not
imagine the possibility, well versed as he was, through his
Shakespeare lessons, in the feminine heart, of his sister's yielding
her proud maiden will to any man. He would as soon have thought of a
wild-cat which he had trailed in the woods, which knew him as his
mortal enemy, whose eyes had followed him with stealthy fury out of a
way-side bush, to unbend from the crouch of its spring and walk
purring tamely into his house at call, and fall to lapping milk out
of a saucer on the hearth. But no man can estimate the possibilities
of character under the lever of circumstances, and there is power
enough abroad to tame the savage in all nature. Madelon Hautville had
yielded to a stress of which her brother knew nothing, and he
therefore scouted the idea, if it crossed his mind like a wild fancy,
of her yielding at all. He rather came to the conclusion that the
letter had announced Burr's engagement to Dorothy Fair, and that
Madelon's "yes" had signified proud approval of it. He leaned to this
conclusion the sooner because of the miserable tendency which a
jealous heart has to force all suspicions to open its own sore. "He's
going to marry Dorothy Fair," Eugene told himself. "It was like Lot
to tell Madelon, and ask her if she was pleased with it. And that was
why she acted so. Her heart broke at first and she cried, and then
she stood up and hid it. He's going to marry Dorothy Fair!"

Eugene had a strong imagination, whereby he could suffer a
thousandfold, if he would, every woe of his life. Sitting now by his
hearth fire, with his Shakespeare book, full of the joys and sorrows
of immortal lovers, disregarded upon his knees, he let his fancy sh