y mine, I beg you to believe
that I did it only because I could see no other way, and even then I
meant only to ask you to share it. In place of this, with
characteristic generosity you insisted upon assuming the whole. This
must not be. Pray name some hour when I may come to you, and let it be
to-morrow. You don't know how far off that seems."

Only that, and then the signature. It was a strange note from a lover;
but to Winifred Anstice it was full of the assurance that the man to
whom she had given her heart (for she admitted it to herself now) was
of a nature large enough to put himself and his own feelings aside and
to believe that she too was capable of the larger vision, the
renunciation of present happiness for pressing duty. The highest plane
upon which those who love can meet is this of united work and united
self-sacrifice.

Winifred's eyes glistened as she read, and when she had finished, she
slipped the note into her pocket for a second reading. As she did so,
Miss Standish entered.

"I declare, Winifred, you get more morning mail than a Congressman."

"Yes," said Winifred, "and my constituents make larger demands."

"It seems to me," said Miss Standish, "that you engage in too many
projects. You do not give yourself time to attend to your own needs
at all."

"Oh, never fear for that!" answered Winifred. "One's own needs pound
at the door; the needs of others only tap. How did you sleep last
night?"

"Finely. I was so tired after that picture exhibition that I could
hardly keep my eyes open. I was glad enough to creep off to bed by
nine o'clock; but do you know I had a confused dream of voices in the
room next mine,--the little one with the green and white hangings. I
thought I heard your voice, and then a stranger's, and I seemed to
catch the word 'Nepaug.' Isn't it curious how dreams come without any
reason whatever?"

"H'm! Sometimes it is, as you say, very curious; but in this
particular instance there was nothing very miraculous about it, since
you did hear voices and you very likely caught the word 'Nepaug,' for
it was certainly mentioned."

"How's that?" questioned Miss Standish, sharply. She did not relish
the idea of having missed any unusual happenings.

Winifred was a little vexed by the note of curiosity in her voice, and
she answered without undue haste, "Yes, it was I and Tilly Marsden;
you remember her, perhaps,--the daughter of the inn-keeper."

There were two things most exas