an ever; but Elsie had begun to
grow impatient of his devotion. She often treated him cruelly now. The
poor fellow bore it all with patience, and still clung to his beautiful
dream, unable to realize that it was a baseless delusion, which must
pass away with the summer that had warmed it to its prime.

The weeks passed on with all-seeming pleasantness, and in many respects
they were pleasant to both husband and wife, though the secret thoughts
in the minds of both, kept them aloof from the perfect rest and
happiness to which they had looked forward during that brief courtship.

But a sudden change and a great break were nearing their lives, and
unexpectedly enough they came.

Mellen owned a large mining property in California, an immense fortune
in itself, and ever since his return from Europe, he had been much
occupied with a lawsuit that had sprung up concerning the title. He had
sent out his man of business, but the case did not go on satisfactorily,
and letters came which made his presence there appear absolutely
imperative.

He could not take his wife and sister; the discomforts to which they
would be exposed, the dreadful fears where Elsie was concerned, from her
apparent delicacy, entirely prevented that idea.

He informed them that he might be obliged to go; he had written other
letters by the steamer; the answer he might receive would decide.

Elizabeth pleaded to go with him, but Elsie frankly owned that she could
not even think of a sea voyage without deathly horror. Mellen pointed
out to his wife the necessity there was that she should remain with
Elsie, and she submitted in silence.

"He married me to take care of her," she thought; "I will do my duty--I
will stay. Perhaps this absence will change him: but no, I am mad to
hope it. Elsie says he never changes. That woman's memory must always
lie between his heart and mine." So she turned to her dull weary path of
duty, and gave no sign.

CHAPTER X.

SHADOWS OF A SEPARATION.

October comes, and scarcely four months after his marriage, Mellen was
compelled to leave his wife and home, it might be for a year. Elizabeth
grew white and cold when this certainty was forced upon her, yet she
made no protestation, and uttered nothing like regret or complaint.
Grantley was chilled through and through the heart by this. He had been
so lonely, had longed for the warmth and happiness of love with such
intense yearnings, that her calm stillness wounded