room, it was almost as one in a
dream that he followed her. As one in a dream, truly; but nevertheless
he saw every object around him with a marvellous vividness. Next day he
could recollect every feature of the room--the empty fireplace, the
black-framed mirror, the Chinese fans, the small cabinets with their
shelves of blue and white, and the large open book on the table, with a
bit of tartan lying on it. These things seemed to impress themselves on
his eyesight involuntarily; for he was in reality intently listening for
a soft footfall outside the door. He went forward to this open book. It
was a volume of a work on the Highland clans--a large and expensive work
that was not likely to belong to Mr. White. And this colored figure? It
was the representative of the clan Macleod: and this bit of cloth that
lay on the open book was of the Macleod tartan. He withdrew quickly, as
though he had stumbled on some dire secret. He went to the window. He
saw only leafless trees now, and withered flowers; with the clear
sunshine touching the sides of houses and walls that had in the summer
months been quite invisible.

There was a slight noise behind him; he turned, and all the room seemed
filled with a splendor of light and of life as she advanced to him--the
clear, beautiful eyes full of gladness, the lips smiling, the hand
frankly extended. And of a sudden his heart sank. Was it indeed of her,

"The glory of life, the beauty of the world,"

that he had dared to dream wild and impossible dreams? He had set out
that morning with a certain masterful sense that he would face his fate.
He had "taken the world for his pillow," as the Gaelic stories say. But
at this sudden revelation of the incomparable grace, and
self-possession, and high loveliness of this beautiful creature, all his
courage and hopes fled instantly, and he could only stammer out excuses
for his calling so early. He was eagerly trying to make himself out an
ordinary visitor. He explained that he did not know but that she might
be going to the theatre during the day. He was in London for a short
time on business. It was an unconscionable hour.

"But I am so glad to see you!" she said, with a perfect sweetness, and
her eyes said more than her words. "I should have been really vexed if I
had heard you had passed through London without calling on us. Won't you
sit down?"

As he sat down, she turned for a second, and without any embarrassment
shut the big book t