rment which fell so flippantly
from his lips, and his bold, passionate glances which never failed to
bring the rich, warm blood to Kate's cheeks and brow, all to one
possessing Darrell's fine chivalric nature and his delicacy of feeling
were intolerable. In addition, the growing indications of Kate's
unhappiness, the silent appeal in her eyes, the pathetic curves forming
about her mouth, and the touch of pathos in the voice whose every tone
was music to his ear, seemed at times more than he could bear.

There were hours--silent, brooding hours of the night--when he was
sorely tempted to defy past and future alike, and, despite the
conditions surrounding himself, to rescue her from a life which could
have in store for her nothing but bitterness and sorrow. But with the
dawn his better judgment returned; conscience, inexorable as ever, still
held sway; he kept his own counsel as in duty bound, going his way with
a heart that grew heavier day by day, and was hence glad of an
opportunity to return once more to the seclusion of the mountains.

Kate, realizing that all further appeal to her father was useless, as a
last resort trusted to Walcott's sense of honor, that, when he should
fully understand her feelings towards himself, he would discontinue his
attentions. But in this she found herself mistaken. Taking advantage of
the courtesy which she extended to him in accordance with the promise
given her father, he pressed his suit more ardently than ever.

"Why do you persist in annoying me in this manner?" she demanded one
day, indignantly withdrawing from his attempted caresses. "The fact that
my father has given you his permission to pay attention to me does not
warrant any such familiarity on your part."

"Perhaps not," Walcott replied, in his low, musical tones, "but stolen
waters are often sweetest. If I have offended, pardon. I supposed my
love for you would justify me in offering any expression of it, but
since you say I have no right to do so, I beg of you, my dear Miss
Underwood, to give me that right."

"That is impossible," Kate answered, firmly.

"Why impossible?" he asked.

"Because I will not accept any expressions of a love that I cannot
reciprocate."

"Love begets love," he argued, softly; "so long as you keep me at arm's
length you have no means of knowing whether or not you could reciprocate
my affection. Mr. Underwood has done me the great honor to consent to
bestow his daughter's hand upon me, an