o it came to pass that three minutes later, Braden and Anne were face
to face with each other, and old Mr. Thorpe had redeemed his promise.

Of the two, Braden was the more surprised. The girl's misgivings had
prepared her for just such a crisis as this. Something told her the
instant she set foot inside the house that she was to be tricked. In a
flash she realised that Mr. Thorpe himself was responsible for the
encounter she had dreaded. It was impossible to suspect Braden of being a
party to the scheme. He was petrified. There could be no doubt that he had
been tricked quite as cleverly as she.

But what could have been in the old man's design? Was it a trap? Did he
expect her to rush into Braden's arms? Was he lurking behind some near-by
curtain to witness her surrender? Was he putting her to the test, or was
it his grandson who was on trial?

Here was the supreme crisis in the life of Anne Tresslyn: the turning
point. Her whole being cried out against this crafty trick. One word now
from Braden would have altered the whole course of her life. In eager
silence she stood on the thin edge of circumstance, ready to fall as the
wind blew strongest. She was in revolt. If this stupefied, white-faced
young man had but called out to her: "Anne! Anne, my darling! Come!" she
would have laughed in triumph over the outcome of the old man's test, and
all the years of her life would have been filled with sweetness. She would
have gone to him.

But, alas, those were not the words that fell from his lips, and the fate
of Anne Tresslyn was sealed as she stood there watching him with wide-
spread eyes.

"I prefer to see you in your own home," he said, a flush of anger
spreading over his face; "not here in my grandfather's house."

There was no mistaking his meaning. He thought she had come there to see
him,--ay, conceivably had planned this very situation! She started. It was
like a slap in the face. Then she breathed once more, and realised that
she had not drawn a breath since he entered the room. Her life had been
standing still, waiting till these few stupendous seconds were over. Now
they were gone and she could take up life where it had left off. The
tightness in her throat relaxed. The crisis was over, the turning point
was behind her. He had failed her, and he would have to pay. He would have
to pay with months, even years of waiting. For it had never occurred to
Anne Tresslyn to doubt that he would come to her in good an