e would never have
risked of his own will. He must go through it, cruel as it was, with the
easy self-command which belongs to a gentleman in the most trying social
exigencies. He addressed her, therefore, in the usual terms of courtesy,
and then turned and greeted Mr. Bradshaw, whom he had never met since
their coming together at Oxbow Village. Myrtle was conscious, the
instant she looked upon Clement Lindsay, of the existence of some
peculiar relation between them; but what, she could not tell. Whatever
it was, it broke the charm which had been weaving between her and Murray
Bradshaw. He was not foolish enough to make a scene. What fault could he
find with Clement Lindsay, who had only done as any gentleman would do
with a lady to whom he had just been introduced, addressed a few
polite words to her? After saying those words, Clement had turned very
courteously to him, and they had spoken with each other. But Murray
Bradshaw could not help seeing that Myrtle had transferred her
attention, at least for the moment, from him to the new-comer. He folded
his arms and waited,--but he waited in vain. The hidden attraction which
drew Clement to the young girl with whom he had passed into the Valley
of the Shadow of Death overmastered all other feelings, and he gave
himself up to the fascination of her presence.

The inward rage of Murray Bradshaw at being interrupted just at the
moment when he was, as he thought, about to cry checkmate and finish the
first great game he had ever played may well be imagined. But it could
not be helped. Myrtle had exercised the customary privilege of young
ladies at parties, and had turned from talking with one to talking with
another,--that was all. Fortunately, for him the young man who had been
introduced at such a most critical moment was not one from whom he need
apprehend any serious interference. He felt grateful beyond measure to
pretty Susan Posey, who, as he had good reason for believing, retained
her hold upon her early lover, and was looking forward with bashful
interest to the time when she should become Mrs. Lindsay. It was better
to put up quietly with his disappointment; and, if he could get no
favorable opportunity that evening to resume his conversation at the
interesting point where he left it off, he would call the next day and
bring matters to a conclusion.

He called accordingly the next morning, but was disappointed in not
seeing Myrtle. She had hardly slept that night,