wed its shining course, and caught it before it was lost.

"You really mean it?" demanded Philip in a voice as cold as hers ever
had been.

"You know I mean it!" cried Edith Carr.

"I accept your decision in the presence of these witnesses," said Philip
Ammon. "Where is my father?" The elder Ammon with a distressed face
hurried to him. "Father, take my place," said Philip. "Excuse me to my
guests. Ask all my friends to forgive me. I am going away for awhile."

He turned and walked from the pavilion. As he went Hart Henderson rushed
to Edith Carr and forced the ring into her fingers. "Edith, quick. Come,
quick!" he implored. "There's just time to catch him. If you let him go
that way, he never will return in this world. Remember what I told you."

"Great prophet! aren't you, Hart?" she sneered. "Who wants him to
return? If that ring is thrust upon me again I shall fling it into the
lake. Signal the musicians to begin, and dance with me."

Henderson put the ring into his pocket, and began the dance. He could
feel the muscular spasms of the girl in his arms, her face was cold and
hard, but her breath burned with the scorch of fever. She finished the
dance and all others, taking Phil's numbers with Henderson, who had
arrived too late to arrange a programme. She left with the others,
merely inclining her head as she passed Ammon's father taking his place,
and entered the big touring car for which Henderson had telephoned. She
sank limply into a seat and moaned softly.

"Shall I drive awhile in the night air?" asked Henderson.

She nodded. He instructed the chauffeur.

She raised her head in a few seconds. "Hart, I'm going to pieces," she
said. "Won't you put your arm around me a little while?"

Henderson gathered her into his arms and her head fell on his shoulder.
"Closer!" she cried.

Henderson held her until his arms were numb, but he did not know it. The
tricks of fate are cruel enough, but there scarcely could have been a
worse one than that: To care for a woman as he loved Edith Carr and have
her given into his arms because she was so numb with misery over her
trouble with another man that she did not know or care what she did.
Dawn was streaking the east when he spoke to her.

"Edith, it is growing light."

"Take me home," she said.

Henderson helped her up the steps and rang the bell.

"Miss Carr is ill," he said to the footman. "Arouse her maid instantly,
and have her prepare something hot as quickl