whether she acted like
Coleridge's Genevieve,--that is, "fled to him and wept," or suffered her
feelings to betray themselves in some less startling confession, we will
leave untold. Her answer, spoken or silent, could not have been a cruel
one, for in another moment Clement was pressing his lips to hers, after
the manner of accepted lovers.

"Our lips have met to-day for the second time," he said, presently.

She looked at him in wonder. What did he mean? The second time! How
assuredly he spoke! She looked him calmly in the face, and awaited his
explanation.

"I have a singular story to tell you. On the morning of the 16th of
June, now nearly two years ago, I was sitting in my room at Alderbank,
some twenty miles down the river, when I heard a cry for help coming
from the river. I ran down to the bank, and there I saw a boy in an old
boat--"

When it came to the "boy" in the old boat, Myrtle's cheeks flamed so
that she could not bear it, and she covered her face with both her
hands. But Clement told his story calmly through to the end, sliding
gently over its later incidents, for Myrtle's heart was throbbing
violently, and her breath a little catching and sighing, as when she had
first lived with the new life his breath had given her.

"Why did you ask me for myself, when you could have claimed me?" she
said.

"I wanted a free gift, Myrtle," Clement answered, "and I have it."

They sat in silence, lost in the sense of that new life which had
suddenly risen on their souls.

The door-bell rang sharply. Kitty Fagan answered its summons, and
presently entered the parlor and announced that Mr. Bradshaw was in the
library, and wished to see the ladies.

CHAPTER XXXIV. MURRAY BRADSHAW PLAYS HIS LAST CARD.

"How can I see that man this evening, Mr. Lindsay?"

"May I not be Clement, dearest? I would not see him at all, Myrtle.
I don't believe you will find much pleasure in listening to his fine
speeches."

"I cannot endure it.--Kitty, tell him I am engaged, and cannot see him
this evening. No, no! don't say engaged, say very much occupied."

Kitty departed, communing with herself in this wise:--"Ockipied, is it?
An' that's what ye cahl it when ye 're kapin' company with one young
gintleman an' don't want another young gintleman to come in an' help the
two of ye? Ye won't get y'r pigs to market to-day, Mr. Bridshaw, no, nor
to-morrow, nayther, Mr. Bridshaw. It's Mrs. Lindsay that Miss Myrtle
is goin' to b