ing's face, that the full realization of his situation had come
home to him. "We meant to keep it from you till to-morrow. It might be a
little easier not to know it till it was over than now, when it is going
on, and you not able to lift a finger to stop it."

"Oh, John," cried Mrs. Pinney once more; "remember, she does n't know!"
and, sobbing hysterically, she fled from the room, unable to endure the
sight of Lansing's face.

He had fallen into a chair, and was motionless, save for the slow and
labored breathing which shook his body. As he sat there in Pinney's
ranch this pleasant afternoon, the wife whom he worshiped never so
passionately as now, at their home one thousand miles away, was holding
another man by the hand, and promising to be his wife.

It was five minutes to five by the clock on the wall before him. It
therefore wanted but five minutes of six, the hour of the wedding, at
home, the difference in time being just an hour. In the years of his
exile, by way of enhancing the vividness of his dreams of home, he
had calculated exactly the difference in time from various points in
Colorado, so that he could say to himself, "Now Mary is putting the
babies to bed;" "Now it is her own bedtime;" "Now she is waking up;" or
"Now the church-bells are ringing, and she is walking to church." He
was accustomed to carry these two standards of time always in his
head, reading one by the other, and it was this habit, bred of doting
fondness, which now would compel him to follow, as if he were a
spectator, minute by minute, each step of the scene being enacted so far
away.

People were prompt at weddings. No doubt already the few guests were
arriving, stared at by the neighbors from their windows. The complacent
bridegroom was by this time on his way to the home of the bride,
or perhaps knocking at the door. Lansing knew him well, an elderly,
well-to-do furniture-maker, who had been used to express a fatherly
admiration for Mary. The bride was upstairs in her chamber, putting the
finishing touches to her toilet; or, at this very moment, it might be,
was descending the stairs to take the bridegroom's arm and go in to be
married.

Lansing gasped. The mountain wind was blowing through the room, but he
was suffocating.

Pinney's voice, seeming to come from very far away, was in his ears.
"Rouse yourself, for God's sake! Don't give it all up that way. I
believe there's a chance yet. Remember the mind-reading you used to d