the agent. We'll go on at
once. Excuse me, Mr.---- Ah, what did you say was the name? I'm sorry
you feel that way about it; though it's very commendable, very
commendable, I'm sure. I'll send to New York at once. Fifth Avenue, did
you say? I'll speak a good word for you. Excuse me, the agent is
beckoning me. Well, good-bye, and thank you again! Daughter, you better
get right into the car. The train is almost here, and they may have no
time to spare," and Mr. Radcliffe hastened up the platform after his son
and the agent.

IX

"FOR REMEMBRANCE"

Hazel turned her troubled eyes to the face of the man pleadingly. "My
father does not understand," she said apologetically. "He is very
grateful and he is used to thinking that money can always show
gratitude."

Brownleigh was off his horse beside her, his hat off, before she had
finished speaking.

"Don't, I beg of you, think of it again," he pleaded, his eyes devouring
her face. "It is all right. I quite understand. And you understand too,
I am sure."

"Yes, I understand," she said, lifting her eyes full of the love she had
not dared to let him see. She was fidgetting with her rings as she spoke
and looked back anxiously at the onrushing train. Her brother, hurrying
down the platform to their car, called to her to hasten as he passed
her, and she knew she would be allowed but a moment more. She caught her
breath and looked at the tall missionary wistfully.

"You will let me leave something of my own with you, just for
remembrance?" she asked eagerly.

His eyes grew tender and misty.

"Of course," he said, his voice suddenly husky, "though I shall need
nothing to remember you by. I can never forget you." The memory of that
look of his eyes was meat and drink to her soul during many days that
followed, but she met it now steadily, not even flushing at her open
recognition of his love.

"This is mine," she said. "My father bought it for me when I was
sixteen. I have worn it ever since. He will never care." She slipped a
ring from her finger and dropped it in his palm.

"Hurry up there, sister!" called young Radcliffe once more from the car
window, and looking up, Brownleigh saw the evil face of Hamar peering
from another window.

Hazel turned, struggling to keep back the rising tears. "I must go," she
gasped.

Brownleigh flung the reins of the pony to a young Indian who stood near
and turning walked beside her, conscious the while of the frowning faces