-a burning spot of shame
upon the whiteness of her youth.

"He must have thought I was very fond of him, or he would not have
dared to treat me so," she told herself. "But then we had been
playfellows so long. I had teased him, and he had plagued me; and we
had been really like brother and sister. Poor Rorie! If we could have
always been young we should have been better friends."

"How thoughtful you seem this morning, Miss Tempest," said a voice
behind Vixen's shoulder.

"Do I?" she asked, turning quickly round. "New Year's Day is a time to
make one thoughtful. It is like beginning a new chapter in the volume
of life, and one cannot help speculating as to what the chapter is to
be about."

"For you it ought to be a story full of happiness."

"Ah, but you don't know my history. I had such a happy childhood. I
drained my cup of bliss before I was a woman, and there is nothing left
for me but the dregs, and they--they are dust and ashes."

There was an intensity of bitterness in her tone that moved him beyond
his power of self-control. That she--so fair, so lovely, so deeply dear
to him already; she for whom life should be one summer-day of unclouded
gladness--that she should give expression to a rooted sorrow was more
than his patience could bear.

"Violet, you must not speak thus; you wound me to the heart. Oh, my
love, my love, you were born to be the giver of gladness, the centre of
joy and delight. Grief should never touch you; sorrow and pain should
never come near you. You are a creature of happiness and light."

"Don't!" cried Vixen vehemently. "Oh, pray don't. It is all
vain--useless. My life is marked out for me. No one can alter it. Pray
do not lower yourself by one word more. You will be sorry--angry with
yourself and me--afterwards."

"Violet, I must speak."

"To what end? My fate is as fixed as the stars. No one can change it."

"No mortal perhaps, Violet. But Love can. Love is a god. Oh, my
darling, I have learnt to love you dearly and fondly in this little
while, and I mean to win you. It shall go hard with me if I do not
succeed. Dear love, if truth and constancy can conquer fate, I ought to
be able to win you. There is no one else, is there, Violet?" he asked
falteringly, with his eyes upon her downcast face.

A burning spot glowed and faded on her cheek before she answered him.

"Can you not see how empty my life is?" she asked with a bitter laugh.
"No; there is no one else. I stand quit