lready finished seemed to leave but a
few weeks' steady work to be accomplished. Shortly after the wedding
Gouger went to Roseleaf's rooms, one evening, and begged him to lose no
further time.

"What is there to wait for now?" he asked. "All the dramatic incidents
have occurred. You only need to wind up with a glory of fireworks,
showing virtue triumphant and vice buried under a North Carolina
sycamore. Come, my dear boy, when may I expect to see the work
completed?"

Roseleaf did not answer for some seconds.

"There is a part of this story that you do not comprehend," he said,
finally. "A chapter is yet to be written at which you have not guessed."

"Indeed!" exclaimed the listener.

"Yes," nodded the other. "So far the character that is supposed to
represent myself appears that of a heartless, cold, unfeeling wretch. Do
you think I shall be satisfied to leave it that way?"

The critic stared at the speaker in astonishment.

"I--I do not understand," he replied.

"I thought not," said Roseleaf, soberly. "Well, this story, to be
truthful, must do justice to the one who is supposed to personate its
author. And, in the first place, to avoid all circumlocution, let me
tell you there has never been a moment since I first loved Daisy Fern
that she has not been the dearest thing on this earth to me!"

Mr. Gouger could not reconcile this statement with the events that had
taken place, and his puzzled countenance said as much.

"I acted like a villain, did I not," continued Roseleaf, after a slight
pause, "when the news was brought that she had disappeared? I seemed to
have no faith in her, no confidence in Archie, no trust in that poor old
man, her father. Why? I was so madly, insanely in love that every
possible phantasy got possession of my excited brain. To lose her was to
deprive me of all hope, all ambition, all care for life. So far, I acted
my real self. If what I supposed true had been proven I think there
would have been a murder. Not of Daisy; ah, no! but of the man who had
robbed me of my treasure. Then I went to Midlands with Archie and I saw
her. I heard her speak, and like a lightning flash it came to me. He was
as honorable as a man could be and she cared more for him than for my
unworthy self. She had contrasted us and discovered how much he was my
superior. And I said to myself at that moment, 'I will give her up! If
it costs me my happiness as long as I live I will give her up! No matter
what happ