on't see, but I yield, as usual."

"I promise you Sunday afternoon or the first clear day," she
exclaimed, eagerly.

"Very well," he replied, brightening. "Remember I shall be a Shylock
with this bond." But he was irritated, nevertheless, and went out on
the piazza to try the soothing influence of a cigar.

The skies cleared rapidly. So did his brow; and before long he
muttered: "I'll console myself by another gallop with Madge. There
goes my inamorata, smiling upon another fellow. How long is this going
to last? Not all summer, by Jupiter! Her father must not insist on her
playing that game too long, even though she does play it so well."

Madge was sitting in her room in dreary apathy and spiritless reaction
from the strain of the morning, when she was aroused by a knock on her
door. "Madge," called a voice that sent the blood to her face, "what
say you to another ride? I know the roads are muddy, but--"

"But I'll go with you," she cried. "Why use adversatives in the same
breath with 'ride'? The mud's nothing. What won't rub off can stay on.
How soon shall I be ready?"

"That's a good live girl. In half an hour."

When they were a mile or two away Madge asked, as if with sudden
compunction, "Graydon, are you sure you were disengaged?"

He laughed outright. "That question comes much too late," he said.

She braced herself as if to receive a deadly blow, and was pale and
rigid with the effort as she asked, with an air of curiosity merely,
"Are you truly engaged to Miss Wildmere, Graydon?"

"In one sense I am, Madge," he replied, gravely. "I have given her my
loyalty, and, to a certain extent, my word; but I have not bound her.
Since you have proved so true and generous a friend to me I do not
hesitate to let you know the truth. I am sorry you do not like her
altogether, and that you have some cause for your feeling; but you are
both right at heart. She spoke most enthusiastically of your rescue
of the child. You ladies amuse me with your emphasis of little piques;
but when it comes to anything large or fine you do justice to one
another. Henry had no right to say what he did at dinner, for Stella
applauded you as you had her; but Henry's prejudices are inveterate.
Why should I not be loyal to her, Madge? I believe she remained free
for my sake during the years of my absence."

"I think your feelings are very natural. They are what I should expect
of you. You have always seemed to me the soul of honor when o