Her voice had failed to a sobbing whisper, and the diaphanous

cambric veiled her bowed face.

Frederic Chilton did not stir a finger or attempt to speak for a

full minute, but in that minute he thought a volume, felt acutely.

This, then, was what he had been doing in his hours of relaxation

from the business which had occupied his mind to the banishment of

nearly every other consideration; that had driven into comparative

obscurity the old gnawing grief which had incorporated itself with

his being! The intimacy with a beautiful, sprightly girl had been a

holiday diversion to him after arduous brain-labor, recreation

sought conscientiously and systematically, that his mental powers

might be clearer and fresher for the next day's toil in court and

among perplexing records; in hunting up titles and disputed

property, and proving their validity. He had gained the cause that

had brought him to the capital, and cost him so much fatigue and

anxiety, and was proud of his success. But what of this other piece

of work? Would not the most cold-blooded flirt, who ever prated of

fidelity, when he meant betrayal and desertion, blush to father this

business? And she, poor, guileless lamb, must bear the pain, the

mortification, perhaps the contumely, which ought to be his in

seven-fold measure!

"Stay, Rosa!" he said, huskily, when she attempted to rise. "Do not

leave me yet. I may not be altogether so unworthy, so basely callous

as I have given you reason to suppose. Can it be that I have

misconstrued what you have said, or do you really care that our

separation is so near? I had not thought of this."

"I understand." She lowered her flag of distress and confronted him

sorrowfully, not in resentment. "You believed me incapable of deep

and lasting feeling; saw in me no more than the world does, a giddy

coquette, feather-haired and shallow-hearted. Be it so. Perhaps it

is best that you should not be undeceived. Such injustice and

prejudice are the penalties a woman must suffer who wears a tinsel

cloak over her finer affections--admits but few, sometimes but one,

to her sanctum sanctorum. The gushing, loving, extensively-loving

class fare better. You have been very kind and attentive to me in my

strangerhood here, Mr. Chilton. I must always revert to your conduct

with gratitude. By the way"--a hysterical laugh breaking into her

dignified acknowledgment of benefits received--"that is the same,

in substance, that you said to me a while ago, isn't it? So we are

even--owe each other nothing."

"Except to love one another." The solemn accents hushed her reckless

prattle. "Rosa, can you learn this lesson?"




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