ty which made him feel curiously
guilty.

It was the old infallible method, he knew. She would never yield her
point; she would never relax her pressure; she would never admit defeat
until he married another woman.

"I want nobody else in your place, Mother. Goodnight, and try to set
your heart on something else."

As he undressed a little later he was thinking of Margaret--of her low
white brow under the "widow's peak," of her soft blue eyes, of her
goodness and gentleness, and of the thrill in her voice when she had
made that touching confession. Margaret's voice was the last thing he
thought of before falling asleep; but hours afterward, when the dawn was
beginning to break, he dreamed of Patty Vetch in her red cape and of
that hidden country of the endless roads and the far horizons.

CHAPTER VI

MAGIC

The next day after luncheon, as Stephen walked from his club to his
office, he lived over again his evening with Margaret. "If she cared for
me it might be different," he mused; and then, through some perversity
of memory, Margaret's pensive smile became suddenly charged with
emotion, and he asked himself if he had not misinterpreted her innocent
frankness? Even if she cared, he knew that she would die rather than
betray her preference by a word or a look. "Whether she cares or not,
and it is just possible that she does care in her heart, she will marry
me if I ask her," he thought; and decided immediately that there was no
necessity to act impulsively in the matter. "If I ask her she will
persuade herself that she loves me. She will marry me just as hundreds
of women have married men in the past; and we should probably live as
long and as happily as all the others." That was the way his father and
mother had married; and why were he and Margaret different from the
generations before them? What variable strain in their natures impelled
them to lead their own separate lives instead of the collective life of
the family? "I suppose Mother is right as far as she sees," he admitted.
"To marry Margaret and settle down would be the best thing that could
happen to me." Yet he had no sooner put the thought into words than the
old feeling of suffocation rushed over him as if his hopes were
smothered in ashes.

Yes, he would settle down, of course, but not now. Next year perhaps, or
the year after, he would sincerely fall in love with Margaret, and then
everything would be different.

He was passing through t