vague shadow that lay about his
path? No one but he himself knew the sweetness and graciousness of the
dream that had come to him. It had only been a dream, after all; and
now he was awake. The vision he had conjured up to himself had faded
into unreality. She was not his second self: never by look or word had
he wooed her; she was only the woman he could have loved. This was how
he put it; and now he would bury this faint hope that was
still-born,--that had never had breathed into it the breath of life.
And if for a little while his future should be cloudy and bereft of
its sunshine, was he the only one to whom "some days must be dark and
dreary"?

Phillis's unspoken sympathy drooped under this stern repression; and
yet in her heart she reverenced him all the more for this moral
strength,--for there is nothing a true woman abhors more than weakness
in a man. After this silent rebuff, Archie took himself well in hand,
and began to speak of other things: he told Mrs. Cheyne, being certain
now of her interest, of his sister's intended marriage, and how he and
Mattie were going down to the wedding.

"He is a very good fellow, this intended brother-in-law of mine,--a
sort of rough diamond; but hardly good enough for Isabel," he said.
"Oh, yes, he is very rich. My poor little sister will have her head
turned by all her magnificence; for his parents are so generous: they
quite load her with gifts." And he smiled to himself at the notion of
the little sister, just fresh from her narrow school-room life,
rejoicing over her trousseau and her handsome house, and driving away
from the church in her own carriage. No wonder his father and mother
were pleased. As for the bridegroom-elect, Archie spoke of him with
half-contemptuous amusement: "Oh, he was a good fellow,--no one wished
to deny that;" but there was a want of culture and polish that grated
upon the susceptibilities of the Oxford fellow.

Phillis listened with undivided interest--especially when he mentioned
Grace.

"Mattie and I are in hopes that we shall bring her back with us; but,
at all events, my mother has promised to spare her at Christmas." This
time he addressed himself to Phillis.

"Oh, that will be nice for you!" she returned a little eagerly. "You
have told us so much about her that I quite long to know her."

"I should say you would suit each other perfectly," he replied, as he
rose to take his leave. "Sometimes you remind me of her, Miss
Challoner; a