t, if it were years, until she laid down her few weak weapons,
and capitulated. From that time onward, there would be neither "mine"
nor "thine."

And now the fine, tested quality of his patience stood him in good
stead. He might long to draw near, to clasp the snowy hand, to study the
fathomless dusk of the eyes, and note the frightened droop of the
fringed lids; but he held aloof. Still he went to Larch Avenue night
after night; he dropped in of a morning when least expected,
occasionally finding her alone for a few moments; he walked from church
with them, by her side, the only times he came near her, and she felt in
every pulse of her being the indefinable something that she was impelled
to struggle against.

A curious change came over her. The cold indifference melted to a rose
hue of interest, a pliant softness stole over her figure, a certain
buoyant tenderness diffused itself in her tone, her dusky eyes came to
have a startled softness like a shy, frightened fawn. The old brilliant
color returned to cheek and lip, yet toned with the tremulous throbbing
of a new inward life, so exquisitely attuned that she could but listen
to the harmonious melody.

She came to understand presently; the intangible power in his demeanor
roused her, I think; and her whole soul, every fibre of her body, rose
up in mutinous revolt. Whither was this swift current carrying her? What
great wave was this that struck at the very props of her own strength
and reliance? How did this man dare to invade the walled sanctities of
her being? She would have none of him: she would go on her solitary way,
sufficient for herself. She, who had never loved amid all the
beguilements the world had to offer, to be conquered by the very man she
had trained herself to despise!

Irene Lawrence found it hard fighting with this unseen foe. He seemed
always lying in ambush, always armored with a word or sentiment to which
she must assent, always before her in the place she had meant to be; and
she would not throw up the white flag of defeat. She would not own to
herself she experienced any alarm or annoyance.

One evening Fred and Sylvie had gone to a neighbor's, and were
momentarily expected. A peculiar temptation entered her soul. If this
man must needs flutter in the flame, why should she be tender and
careful of him? Others had dared her, to the burning of their very
souls: if the experience was worth the pain, he should have it, and
decide.

She s