ur face was constantly before me
like an accusing angel. I waited only until the lady recovered from
a dangerous illness to tell her that I did not love her, and that my
heart, as well as my faith, was yours. I went at once to see you, and
found your father dead, yourself homeless. And from that hour I have
done nothing but search for you. Is it in vain?--I can say no more.
Perhaps I have said too much. But I implore you, Alice, by the memory of
our love as it was once, by all your hope of the future, to forgive me,
and not to make my whole life as miserable as the last few months have
been to you."

It was the last word; he felt that he had nothing further to urge. He
bent over her chair, seized her hand and pressed it passionately to
his lips, watching with the intensest eagerness the effect of his
appeal.--There was a rustle of silk behind him, an incoming of perfumes,
a light footstep. He started, as did Alice, and beheld--Miss Marcia
Sandford! She was tastefully dressed, as usual, and she bore
herself with superb composure. In coming from the sunlight into the
semi-translucent gloom which pervades modern drawing-rooms, people are
not easily recognized, and the lady swept majestically across the floor,
and took a seat, without a sign of consciousness, near the couple whose
conversation she had interrupted.

Not so Greenleaf; it was the most dangerous dilemma in which he had ever
been placed, and he was thoroughly at a loss to know how to extricate
himself. Would that he could telegraph to Easelmann to come down, so
that he could effect a decent retreat, and not leave the field in the
sole possession of the enemy. The silence was becoming embarrassing. He
was about to make some excuse for departure, when the lioness fixed
her eyes upon him,--her glance sparkling with malicious joy. A servant
entered to say that Mrs. Sandford was engaged for a few minutes, and
that she wished to know the name of her visitor.

"Miss Sandford," she replied, "and please tell her I will wait."

Alice remembered the name, and now shared fully in Greenleaf's
embarrassment. She watched him, therefore, keenly, while the lady
began,--

"Oh, Mr. Greenleaf, is it you? Why didn't you speak? It is not worth
while to keep a memory of the old disappointment. Let bygones be
bygones. Besides, I see you know the remedy for heartbreak; if you can't
succeed where you would, you must try elsewhere. And you seemed to be
getting on very well when I ca