afford him so much gratification. Still he hesitated to take it.

"I do not like to rob you of your mother's gift," he said, gently.

"Please take it; I want you to have it--that is, if you would like it,"
Violet said, eagerly, and looking so lovely in her earnestness that he
longed to take her in his arms and claim her for his own, then and
there.

"You are sure you will not regret it?" he asked.

"No--no, indeed; and you can easily detach it, for it is only fastened
by this slender ring."

"I think you will have to do that for me," he returned, smiling, and
glancing down at his bandaged arm, "for I have only one hand at my
disposal."

"True; how thoughtless I am," Violet answered, flushing, and, taking a
pair of scissors that lay upon the table, she easily pried the ring
apart, detached the pendant and laid it in his hand.

"Thank you," Wallace said, but he was very pale as his fingers closed
over the precious gift, and he felt that fate was very cruel to force
him to keep silent when his heart was so full of a deathless love. "It
is a beautiful little souvenir, and I shall prize it more than I can
tell you, Miss Huntington."

Violet tapped her foot impatiently upon the floor and frowned.

"Miss Huntington," she repeated, sarcastically; "how formal! Call me
Violet--I do not like to be held at arm's length by my friends. But Mrs.
Dean is calling me, and I suppose I must go. I have been very happy here
in your home in spite of my illness; I have learned to love your mother
dearly, and she has promised to come to see me; will you come with her?"

How sweet and gracious she was! how she tempted him with her beauty and
her artless, impulsive ways, and it required all his moral strength to
resist her and preserve the secret of his love.

"I am afraid I cannot," he replied.

"Why not?" Violet questioned, in a surprised, hurt tone.

"You forget that I am but a laborer--I have little time for social
pleasures."

"But you cannot work now--it will be several weeks yet before your arm
will be strong enough to allow you to go back to your duties," Violet
returned, searching his face intently.

Wallace flushed hotly; he knew that was a lame excuse to give her; he
knew, too, that he must not put himself in the way of temptation; and,
believing a straightforward course the wisest, he frankly said:

"Miss--Violet," faltering a little over the name, but not wishing to
wound her again by the more formal mode of addre