erself for the moments when she had cheapened her
renunciation by the suspicion that he had been flirting with her.

Friedrich stood beside her, his left hand clutching his heart. He felt
as if, in destroying that picture, so often gazed at through clouds of
meditative smoke, so often kissed, she had done him a physical injury.
Through his coat he pinched hard her little handkerchief, which always
rested over his heart, lest she should divine its presence, and in some
way tear that from him, too. His suffering was so great that he did not
follow her change of expression, but his fingers felt hers touch them
ever so fleetingly, and her whisper came to his ears,--

"Forgive me. I think I understand now."

Across the room came Hilda, who never could stay away from Friedrich
many minutes, in spite of Wendell's efforts to interest her; and
Wendell himself, following her reluctantly only when her progress
brought him near von Rittenheim; and Bob, never truly happy except near
Sydney. There was laughing and talking, in which Friedrich and Sydney
heard themselves taking part, and wondered how it could be.

"Also we br-rought you an invitation," said Hilda, "as well as our so
interesting selves."

"Yes," said Bob, "we're going on a 'possum-hunt to-morrow night, and we
want you and your best dog."

"You shall have me! I r-remember last year when first I came I heard
the dogs on the mountain, but then I had no kind fr-riends to make me
the invitation."

"It's a little early, but we want to be sure to have one before Mr.
Wendell goes."

"You go soon?"

Von Rittenheim's interest was only a courteous expression of concern,
but John, fretted by Hilda's alternate encouragement and coldness, was
tormented by his nerves, and not in command of his judgment. He saw in
the Baron's question a malicious pleasure in his prospective departure.

"Yes," he said, "I must go soon, I'm afraid. You're playing in luck
these days, old man. You gain what I lose--and the close season for
moonshiners is coming on, now that the corn is ripe."

Hilda, who did not understand a word he said, laughed softly, as if in
amusement at his wit. Von Rittenheim, who had not been able to follow
the colloquialisms, frowned at "moonshining," which rang out for his
ears above all else. Sydney and Bob looked with horror at the sneering
face before them.

"John," said Sydney, sternly, "you forget yourself strangely."

As they were about to start she leaned f