for which she hoped began to frame itself upon his
lips, and would have been spoken, had not Brent at this moment entered
in search of the mountaineer, and got well within the room before seeing
her.

She arose quietly, entirely free of self-consciousness, and was about to
make a sign for him to wait until the promise should be put in words.
But he was receiving altogether a different impression of the scene.

Yet, whatever his surprise, or the pain it brought, he was too well bred
to be taken unawares, and immediately crossed to the shelves as though
his errand were a book. The room was so large, and so deeply shadowed
near the door, that he might do this; and, indeed, hoped she would
believe herself to have been unobserved.

But the ruse had not deceived her. It had, instead, merely reflected his
own thought; and, as this understanding flashed through her mind, she
started forward, hurt;--but as quickly halted in confusion.

Rather hastily he took out the first book his fingers touched and was
starting back, when again she made as if to follow; but once more
stopped before the humiliation of having considered it even necessary to
explain to him. Yet one of her hands was still held out, a picture of
desperate protest.

Of course he did not see this, for his eyes had not dared to turn in her
direction after their first unforunate glance. Thus he went into the
hall, and an instant later she was staring at the vacant door, now
rapidly becoming blurred.

She gave one backward glance at Dale, but he had forgotten her existence
and was poring over the battles of Pompey. Such indifference did not
hurt her now:--it was the emptiness of that door! Still staring,
silently beating her hands together in impotent rage, her face burning
with mortification, two big tears rolled down her cheeks and fell upon
the rug. Mac whined. He did not understand--he only felt.

"Mac," she sobbed hysterically, "I wish you--could say all--all those
things that go--with damn and hell!" then passionately ran from the
room, and came up plump into the Colonel's ample waistcoat.

"My God!" the old gentleman cried.

"Oh!" she gasped.

"Ah, 'tis you!" he said, his arms still about her. "I thought it was a
wild-cat!"

"I thought it was a bear," she sobbed.

"What? Crying? My dear, how is this?" he asked in alarm.

"I can't tell you," she murmured to his cravat.

"Can't tell me! But I say you shall!" he hotly commanded.

"I'll never do an