Chapter 37

"I say, Traverse! I believe you are getting melancholy," said Mr. Fenerty, as, seated in Guy Traverse's office, he watched Guy bend over the papers on the desk before him, yet seeming to accomplish nothing.

Getting no response to his repeated sallies, he added:

"What's up! out with it! If that pile of papers is in a tangle, say the word, and I'll bring my mighty brain to bear on them, and set them in order for you in no time! No? Are the men going out on a strike, then? or is your great-grandma down with the measles? Then, for Heaven's sake, why such a doleful expression? It is enough to give one the blues to look at you!" and he re-crossed his legs and looked searchingly at his friend.

"That's all your nonsense, Fenerty! I'm all right! What's the news?" and Traverse leaned back in his chair as if to resign himself to the inevitable.

"News! he asks for news, when I have come here expecting to find him boiling over with anxiety to impart news to someone!" and Fenerty rolled up his eyes in astonishment. "However, now that I have looked at you, and seen the settled melancholy of those features, I am obliged to own that you do not look like a man to be congratulated."

"Why should I be congratulated, and for what? What joke are you struggling to get rid of, Fenerty?"

"'Pon honor, Traverse, I believe you are right! The congratulations are due in some other quarter, yet who is he?"

"I am as much in the dark as yourself, Fenerty. I own that I hoped to win her myself, and I feel the disappointment--keenly."

"Traverse, I hope you will not think me a meddling fool; but I would like to know if it is all up with the other one--she of the letter, I mean. You might tell a fellow that much."

Traverse looked at him keenly. He knew that Fenerty had a good heart, with all his bantering, and it was plain enough to all that his attentions to Dexie Sherwood could have but one significance. Yet there must be a feeling in the mind of Fenerty, as well as others, that in the light of that letter he was not "off with the old love before he was on with the new." Should he trust Fenerty with the secret of the letter, and have at least one friend who would not think him dishonorable in the matter?

"Fenerty, how are you at keeping secrets?" he said at last. "I never hear you parting with any, but whether that is owing to the fact that you have none to impart, or whether your secrets really are secrets, I am not able to guess. I would like to tell you about that letter. What are the prospects of it becoming public property?"

"'Pon honor, Traverse, you are a brute! Do you think I would speak of it to my bosom friend, if I had one? and Heaven knows I haven't! But I have often thought of your possible death from unrequited love. You must have been in a desperate way about the time that letter was written, hey, Traverse?"

"Fenerty, you are a great goose, and let me prove my words. But first, while I think of it, never offer yourself as a detective, for the requirements needed are not included in your make-up. Well, I never wrote that letter at all. Miss Gussie was right in thinking the letter was her sister's, but I guessed the truth before anyone had time to catch the horrified look that came into Miss Dexie's face as she heard her letter read out to the crowd. I felt I owed Miss Gussie one for the hateful trick, so claimed it as mine; and I piled on the agony pretty thick, if I remember rightly. How does that solution of the mystery strike you, Fenerty, hey?"

"Traverse, you are right!" and he fell over against the wall, as if the news had been too much for him. "You are right! 'Pon honor, but that was a bright trick of yours to claim that letter! I hope you appreciated the sympathy I expressed for you on that trying occasion. Ha! ha! But the fellow that wrote that letter had it pretty bad, eh, Traverse? By George! I'll bet a hat she has given in at last. That is where the ring came from!"

This referred to a little scene that had taken place in the T. and B. rooms.

Dexie had taken her place at the organ as usual, and in so doing had displayed a ring that was new to the eyes of those standing near. Dexie blushed painfully when attention was called to the ring by her teasing friends; but she would acknowledge nothing when they tried to draw the truth from her lips. When Guy Traverse joined the circle, to see what all the fun and laughter meant, Dexie rose to her feet and slipped away, unable to meet his eyes. But, with the knowledge he had of Dexie's affairs, he thought there could be only one explanation of the ring's appearance; her engagement to the lover over the sea must be a settled fact. But Guy's frequent visits to the Sherwoods made the rest believe there was an engagement between him and Dexie.

Dexie's ring aroused considerable discussion among her friends, and it only made it seem more complicated when Gussie declared to a friend that she believed "Dexie had that ring before she left Halifax, but never wore it."

But it was her sign of freedom, and its glitter and sparkle was like the light of her own eyes when they rested upon it. She was afraid that her secret, that sweet secret of her own, might be surprised from her. Not for worlds would she have _that_ person know that her heart had awakened at last. With that ring on her finger, who could charge her with caring for anyone but the giver?

Guy Traverse thought he had every reason to feel sad and gloomy. How was it that he ever supposed she cared for him, for now she was as reserved and cool when in his society as she had before been frank and pleasant, and, of course, that ring was responsible for the change.

Gussie took the opportunity of relating to Guy, as well as to others, many an interesting story concerning Dexie and her Halifax lover, but she neglected to add that most of her stories were creations of her own brain. Guy felt little interest in these stories. He felt that there was something going on that he did not understand, but he intended to ask an explanation from Dexie at his first opportunity, feeling quite sure she would own the truth to him.

But the opportunity did not present itself readily, and even Mr. Sherwood felt the change and wondered what had come between Dexie and his friend. He tried to seek into the trouble, but could find no explanation of it.

Mr. Sherwood was able now to be lifted to a wheeled chair or couch, and as he could be gently wheeled from room to room, he found the change quite agreeable. The time did not seem so long as when he was confined within four walls.

There were times when Dexie thought her father might be spared for years instead of months, but when one of his attacks of pain seized him such hopes as suddenly sank away. His mind was more free from care, since his lawyer, Mr. Hackett, had brought his business matters to a satisfactory state; but his visits to the house were always times of trial. Mrs. Sherwood would listen to no explanations that would bring to her mind the thought of her husband's decease. But someone had to stand in the gap, and, as usual, it was Dexie; she it was to whom Mr. Hackett explained the many papers and the various transactions to which their contents related.

"What is the matter between you and Traverse, Dexie?" said Mr. Sherwood one day, as Dexie sat by his side, writing at his dictation. "Never mind about that story now; I have forgotten how I intended to end the matter. Tell me what has happened between you two."

"Indeed, papa, there is nothing. Mr. Traverse has probably something else to take up his attention, and he has been away to New York, I hear, so I daresay he is too busy to drop in as often as he used to do. Never mind him; it is a pity not to complete this story when it is so nearly finished. Let me read what I have written down, then perhaps you will remember what you were going to do with this singular young lady."

"Oh, no! Put the thing out of sight! I'm sick and tired of her already. I miss Traverse, Dexie, and if you have had a quarrel, make it up for my sake. He brings a world of sunshine with him when he comes."

"We have not quarrelled, papa; that is not the reason he has not been in. But I will tell Gussie to ask him to come in to-night; she will see him at the T. and B. rooms."

"Why can't you ask him yourself, Dexie? Queer that he has not been in lately! There was never a day but he would run in for a few minutes during some part of it; so ask him yourself to come in and see me."

"I am not going out to-night, papa dear, but I will write him a note, if you say so," and she drew some tiny sheets from among the scattered MS. that filled the desk.

"Do so, then, and tell him to come in as early as he can."

"There, how will that do, papa?" and she passed the few lines for his inspection.

"Well, it couldn't be said in fewer words; that's a fact," he said, looking at her curiously. "Look here, Dexie, out with it. What has happened to you? Don't try to hide it; for I'm not stone-blind yet," and he pinched her pink ear, and pulled her face around to look into it. "What has come over you lately? Some new experience, I am quite sure. Matters are not as they used to be. I have noticed the change in you for some time. You go whistling through the house as happy as a bird, and your face is as bright as a new button. Surely it cannot be because Traverse does not visit us so often? Yet, I notice if anyone speaks to you about him, you get as 'mum' as you please. Come, you used to tell me all your little secrets, you know. What's up, Dexie?"

"Dear papa, I don't know what to tell you," and she stooped and kissed his cheek. "You may look at things differently than I do, and news which may be pleasant to me may seem very strange to you."

"Then there is news of some kind, after all? Well, let us have it. I want to hear the news, good, bad or indifferent. I will try to believe it is _good_ news, since it has such a happy effect on yourself," and he looked up at the bright face that was bending over his chair. "Well, you know, there was a sort of promise between Lancy and me; but I am free from it. Our last letters have been sent and received, and by and by he is going to take an English lassie home as his wife."

"You don't say so, and you find it a source of rejoicing! Well, you are a queer girl, sure enough. Gussie would say you have been jilted."

"But I have not, because it was I who asked to be released from the promise. If you knew what good friends Lancy and I still remain, you would not fancy I feel jilted."

"Well, I'm blest if I see the point yet," and he looked at Dexie keenly.

"Please, papa, do not look for it," was the laughing reply; "for if there be any point to this story, it is not visible to the naked eye, and I doubt if you could discern it with a microscope itself. But, papa, I do not want this spoken about yet--Lancy's approaching marriage, I mean. I would never hear the last of it if Gussie got hold of it, and there is a reason why I want everyone to suppose that everything is as it used to be."

"Well, you can trust me, little girl; but I say again, I cannot see the point."

"And I hope you will not get particularly sharp-sighted all at once, either, papa," she replied, shaking her finger at him; "so don't you go spying into my little affairs, until I give you liberty. Dear papa, there is nothing to tell; when there is, you shall hear it the first thing," and she stooped again and kissed his cheek.

"But why does not Traverse come here as usual, Dexie?" he asked.

"Perhaps he will tell you if you ask him, papa," and hearing her mother call, she left the room.

During the afternoon, a little note found its way into Guy Traverse's hand; but the smallest word from the hand that penned those lines was very dear, and he raised it to his lips, then put it in a hidden corner of his pocket-book.

Guy felt that he was indeed welcome when he made his appearance in Mr. Sherwood's room that evening, for Mr. Sherwood received him with such expressions of pleasure that it needed but the quick, bright glance that Dexie gave him to assure him that his presence was welcome to both.

"You have been busy, Traverse. What is going on at your establishment these days?" Mr. Sherwood asked, as Dexie left the room to fetch the chess-board.

"Oh! nothing more than usual. We have a good many orders in, and I have been away to New York on business for the firm; but I was only away a week. Your old firm has a new manager. Quite a step up for Rushton, isn't it? I am pleased at his promotion, for he deserved it."

"Yes; he was not expecting it either. He called to see me, and I was well pleased to hear he had stepped into my place. Now, Traverse, play your best, and see if you can beat me to-night," as Dexie laid the board and chess men in order by her father's side.

Mr. Sherwood soon became so engrossed in his favorite pastime, that he failed to notice that the poor play of his opponent was due to the fact that his attention was so taken up with watching Dexie that only a part of his thoughts were given to the game.

"Traverse, I don't believe you are half playing," said Mr. Sherwood, as he removed a captured knight from the board.

"Well, you 'most always beat me, you know, Mr. Sherwood, though not often so badly, I confess," was the smiling reply.

"Well, don't be so easily conquered this time, Traverse, or I shall begin to think you have something on your mind."

Guy laughed and promised better play in the future, and as Dexie was called from the room he redeemed his character and won the next game, and during the few minutes' chat that followed Guy sought for information concerning Dexie's supposed engagement.

Mr. Sherwood did not see the drift of his remarks until Guy asked:

"There is a rumor that Miss Dexie expects to be married shortly. You will miss her very much if the rumor is correct."

"Oh! rumor has it that way, has it? Well, this time Dame Rumor is just a little astray. Strange how things do get twisted round!"

"Are you quite sure there is no foundation for the rumor, Mr. Sherwood?" and Guy held his chessman poised in the air while he waited the answer.

"Oh, well, there are some facts to start from, certainly; yet I do not see how the news could have got abroad. I feel quite sure Dexie never told anyone about it, and the matter is not known to anyone else in the house, except myself. She does not care to have the matter spoken of just at present, lest it be misconstrued."

"Then where is rumor wrong, if I may ask?"

"Well, Traverse, I promised not to speak of it, but I do not think she will mind if I tell you."

Mr. Sherwood did not notice how eagerly Guy waited for the next words, for he was studying his next move and seemed to have forgotten what he was about to communicate.

"If Miss Dexie does not wish the matter spoken of, you may rely on my discretion," Guy remarked, as a reminder.

"To be sure; well, the fact is, she has broken off the engagement, if there was any, between herself and that young Englishman. I daresay you may have heard us speaking of him, and he is soon to be married to a lady from his own country; that leaves her free, contrary to Dame Rumor."

"Is it possible! And Miss Dexie--"

"Is as happy as a lark; do not extend your sympathy, Traverse, or you will find it much misplaced."

If Dexie had guessed that the very one she had hoped to keep in ignorance was the first one to be told the facts of the case, she would never have parted with her _news_, even to her father.

Guy's heart bounded with hope and joy as he heard it, yet his happiness was still overshadowed by the thought of that ring. There was something more yet to learn.

"I expect the rumor of her engagement is due to the fact that she wears a beautiful ring lately, the ring and the rumor go together, I expect," and he looked keenly into Mr. Sherwood's face, as if to read any unexpressed thoughts on the matter.

"Oh! she wears a new ring, does she? That's nothing, Traverse; most young ladies are fond of jewelry, you know. There is nothing in it, depend upon it, for if the ring had come from the other one I would have known it at once--there! lost again, Traverse; I don't believe you are in a playing humor to-night."

"Is there anyone likely to come between Miss Dexie and this young Englishman, anyone who may have sent her the ring, Mr. Sherwood? You spoke just now as if there was."

"Well, there _is_ one who would like to bestow his hand and fortune on her, but she will have none of it; surely it can't be that she has changed her mind, after all," and Mr. Sherwood laid down his chessman to consider this new phase of the question. Could it be that the ring was from Hugh, and she not tell of it? The game lost its interest with this new thought, and hearing the sound of the piano through the walls, he said:

"Suppose you wheel me into the sitting-room; I hear Dexie at the piano."

The music suddenly ceased as the door opened, and Guy pushed Mr. Sherwood's couch into the room.

"It is too bad to waste that sweet music on bare walls, Miss Dexie," said Guy smiling, "so I have brought an audience. Go on with what you were playing; the little I heard was very beautiful, so do not let us interrupt you. I am told that I am not a very good judge of music, but I know that the piece you were just playing was something finer than most piano pieces," for he had recognized it as the same piece she had played when he had listened through the window, and it had ended in tears.

Guy came over to the piano, and leaning his elbow on the cover, watched her hands as they flew over the keys, and there was a puzzled look in his eyes as he asked as she finished:

"Is that what you were playing just before we came in, Miss Dexie?"

"No; but do you not think it is a very pretty thing?"

"Oh, yes, very nice; but--"

"Well, here is a new song just out, and if you do not think it is beautiful I will agree at once with the one who told you that you were not a good judge of music," and her clear voice sounded through the room.

"Yes, that is very fine, Miss Dexie. The words are almost too pathetic, or else you make them sound that way. But let us have the first piece; there is something peculiar in it, I fancy," and he picked up some sheet music from the stand and began to look it over.

"Hand it over, if you think you have found it, Mr. Traverse. I will play anything you choose from that untidy mass," and there was an amused look in her eyes as she watched the search. He was not likely to find what he wanted amongst those promiscuous sheets.

"But I do not know it when I see it, Miss Dexie," he replied. "I am sure you know what piece it is I refer to."

Dexie laughed at his bewildered expression; but as he looked at her, she said in a low tone:

"Yes, I know what you mean, Mr. Traverse, but I do not play that piece for everybody."

"Not for me, Miss Dexie?"

"No."

"What's all this about a piece of music, Dexie? I didn't come here to hear you two quarrelling," and her father smiled over at them. "Let us have the piece you were playing first, Dexie. It sounded fairly well, the little I heard of it."

"Choose something else, papa. Shall I play your favorite?" and she struck a few chords.

"No, not that! What is the reason you can't play the one I ask for?"

"That piece of music is only for one pair of ears, and they are not yours, papa, nor do they belong to Mr. Traverse. Name something else."

Her father, looked at her in surprise, and then laughed.

"You have raised my curiosity, Dexie. You will surely play it for me when I ask you?" "No, papa; it is sacred to the memory of someone else."

"But what if I command you to do so?"

"You will not do that, papa dear, I know," and she looked over with a world of entreaty in her eyes.

"Well, well, has it come to this!" he said, with a soft laugh. "Did I ever expect to hear Dexie say such a thing to me! See how badly I am used, Traverse; she actually refuses to obey me, knowing very well I cannot punish her for disobedience. Well, well! who would think it of Dexie?"

"Perhaps it is one of her own compositions that she is trying to keep hidden under a bushel, as it were," said Guy, with a sudden inspiration.

"Oh, now you are wrong! and, to prove it, you shall be made to listen to one of my very own pieces as a punishment," and she turned again to the piano.

"Dexie, is that your own?" when the last chords had died away.

"Yes, papa, all mine, and I have a verse or two composed to suit the music; so be careful, or I'll inflict them upon you as well."

"Now, gentlemen," she added, "what else shall I favor you with--instrumental music, or songs, ballads, whistling choruses, or what? I await your orders. I have an extensive repertoire from which you may select," and her fingers passed softly over the keys as she smilingly waited.

"Then it is no use to ask for that one piece, Miss Dexie?" Guy said, in a low voice.

"No, sir, not at all! I only play that when--well, when I am sentimentally inclined, you know. Did I not say it was sacred to someone else?" and she lifted a saucy face to Guy's gaze.

Then without a moment's pause Dexie began to sing, and she soon charmed away the frown that had gathered over Guy's face on hearing her frank admission. He stood and watched her as she sang, feeling that she had the power to make or mar his life.

"Now, papa, you have heard quite enough, I am sure," she said, at last, going over to his side. "You are looking tired."

"There! that is just the way I am served. Directly I am beginning to enjoy myself, my pleasures are nipped in the bud;" then changing his tone, he added, "Yes, dear child, I do feel a little weary. If Traverse will be kind enough to wheel me back to my room, I guess I will let Jarvis put me to bed; I hear her rummaging about looking for me now," and he smiled as he drew her face down and kissed it.

"Dear papa, I wish it was in your power to escape her search."

Mr. Sherwood understood the wish, and pressed her hand in reply.

Mr. Traverse was soon back by Dexie's side, watching the hands that were evoking such sweet strains, but she seemed hardly aware of his presence until he said, in a low tone:

"Remembering what you told me, Miss Dexie, I was not surprised to hear that you were shortly to be married. May I know the truth from your own lips, Miss Dexie?"

"I do not know why the report, true or otherwise, should trouble any person, Mr. Traverse," and she stooped to pick up some scattered music, and hide her face at the same time.

"It is more to me than you think, Miss Dexie. If you will admit that the report is true, I will not trouble you with further questions; but I understand, from what your father said, that the rumor is not correct."

"Papa had no right to tell you anything, Mr. Traverse, but I fancy you are not much the wiser for any information he may have given you."

Her blushing cheeks and downcast eyes did certainly convey the impression that her father was not aware how matters stood, so he replied:

"No, I am not much wiser, I must admit, for I cannot make what he told me agree with that engagement ring."

"Do all rings have that significance? Gussie frequently wears several without implicating any gentleman," smiling.

"Dexie, you do not know how much this means to me, and I do not know if I have a right to explain. When I remember how much you told me the night that Gussie read your letter, I do not see why you should hesitate to tell me the rest now."

"What was it that papa told you, Mr. Traverse?" Dexie asked, in a low tone.

"Only that you were free. Yet how can I believe that, with this ring on your finger denying the fact, and that music has some connection with the past, that touches your heart, or why is it sacred to one person alone. I do not understand it, Dexie."

"And I do not expect or desire you to understand it, Mr. Traverse," came the hesitating reply, as Guy awaited her answer. "I could not explain about the music, even to papa, but the ring does not tell the story you are thinking of."

"Well, if I may not hear the music, may I know the story of this?" and he took the hand that wore the ring in his own.

Dexie slipped the ring from her finger and held it towards him. "Oh! what a great fire a little ring has kindled!" said she, smiling.

Guy took the ring in his hand, and noticed the words engraved inside, "Freedom and friendship," with the letters L. and D. in monogram.

"That may mean more than the words imply, and be but a part of what the music signifies after all. I am only too willing to believe in the motto engraved here, but I hope the word 'friendship' is called by its right name. Perhaps the writer of that letter has touched your heart at last, Dexie?" he added, looking intently into her blushing face.

"No! oh, no! The ring did not come from him, Mr. Traverse."

"My thoughts have not been pleasant to me since my eyes rested upon this, and heard the rumor connected with it. Dexie, be honest with me and tell me what it means."

Dexie slipped the ring back on her finger, and shook her head.

"It has been discussed enough, Mr. Traverse, please say no more about it," she said, shrinking away from the eager, searching looks that made every moment more embarrassing to her.

"Just a moment, Dexie! Your father said that you asked Mr. Gurney to release you from any promise between you. When speaking of him that evening, you told me that you never had met anyone that you liked better. Tell me, Dexie, have you met anyone _since_ then, that you asked to be free?" and he bent nearer and looked intently into her face.

Why had he put such a question to her? If she said "No," it would imply that she still cared for one that was betrothed to another; but she could not say "Yes," for that might betray her secret.

Guy's face was very near her own, as she answered with a beating heart:

"You have no right to put such a question to me, Mr. Traverse, and please to remember that I am 'Dexie' to no man but papa," and there was a touch of anger in her tone, to which, however, Guy gave no heed.

"Excuse me, Miss Dexie, if I have offended you," and a bright smile lit up his face. "I _had_ no right to ask that question, but I shall endeavor to find it out all the same," a glow of satisfaction filling his heart.

Gussie entered at this moment and Dexie escaped to her room, but Guy did not think his case quite hopeless as he walked home, thinking it over.

"I believe she does care for me; but shall I ever be able to make her confess it? She must know how I love her. However, I feel free to go to the house as usual, and I may not, after all, repeat the moth-and-candle story, as I feared."

But try as he would, he could not break through the reserve that now surrounded Dexie like a mantle. She welcomed him with the fewest possible words when he called on Mr. Sherwood, and she seemed so cool and stiff that he felt chilled to the heart. It was seldom, indeed, that she addressed a remark to him during an evening. Yet there were times when, suddenly turning his eyes in her direction, he would find her looking at him so intently that his heart would throb with hope and gladness, only to be chilled again at the first word that fell from her lips. For weeks this battle with hope and fear went on, and their friendly intercourse seemed to have come to an end. Her visits to the T. and B. rooms were fewer than ever, and the hour for choir practice was so often changed that he found it almost impossible to see her a moment alone. His visits to the house gave him little pleasure. Mr. Sherwood always brightened up when he arrived, and but for the pleasure these visits gave to the sick man Guy would have hesitated about making them at all.

One evening as he entered the parlor he found the family assembled and busy over various trifles: Gussie, with a basket of colored wools, was picking out some needed shade; Mrs. Sherwood was by the fire with some fleecy knitting work in her hands, while Flossie sat at her feet intent on fitting a brilliant dress on her newest doll.

Traverse stood in the doorway looking at the family group for some moments until Dexie, who was reading the evening paper to her father, lifted her eyes and acknowledged his presence with a bow. She perused the paper silently, while her father and Mr. Traverse entered into a discussion concerning certain charges made in it against one of the public officers of the State, and at her father's request Dexie read again the article that had called forth the discussion.

When she had finished she lifted her eyes, and a wave of color spread to her very brow as she met Guy's earnest gaze. If there was more animation in the remarks that followed, Mr. Sherwood did not guess the cause of the change.

Wishing for a certain volume that had reference to the matter, Dexie rose to get it from the bookcase, but not finding it readily Traverse came over to assist her. The search went on in silence for some time, when Guy said in a low tone:

"Is there any quarrel between us, Miss Dexie, that we so seldom speak to each other?"

"Not that I know of, Mr. Traverse," Dexie replied, dropping her eyes to the lowest shelf.

"Then, why are you so silent when I am near? We used to be good friends, but now you cut me to the heart by your cold looks and cruel speeches. What has come between us?"

"Nothing that I know of, Mr. Traverse, and if my words and looks do not please you there is a way to keep out of the reach of both."

"You are an enigma hard to solve, Miss Dexie," was the smiling reply; "but I intend to find the solution, and until then you will not find it easy to drive me away."

"As you please," and catching sight of the book she was looking for, she turned hastily from him and seated herself by her father's side.

Guy felt in little humor to continue the discussion. He felt that Dexie's manner was but a cloak to hide her true feelings from him, and finding it impossible to draw her into further conversation he rose to leave the room.

"May I speak to you a few moments in the hall?" he quietly asked, as he bent over her chair.

But Dexie shrank from such an interview, and replied:

"Please excuse me; papa needs me just now."

"No, I don't," came the unexpected reply from her father, who had heard the request as well as the refusal.

Dexie rose slowly to her feet, a look of indecision on her face.

"Go at once," said her father; "Mr. Traverse is waiting for you, Dexie," then she followed him out of the room.

Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment as she waited in silence for Mr. Traverse to speak, and her heart beat wildly as he regarded her with earnest eyes.

"Dexie, tell me honestly, do you wish me to cease visiting here?"

"No, Mr. Traverse;" then after a pause, "papa would miss you."

"But I do not come here on purpose to see your father; you know that very well, Dexie," and the tender, reproachful tone made Dexie droop her head still lower.

"Have I offended you, Dexie, that you are so cool and distant with me?"

"No, you have not."

"Then is it because you dislike me that you will not speak a word to me? Is that why you are so silent, Dexie?"

No answer came from Dexie's lips, but she shook her head in reply. "What is it, Dexie that has come between us--there is something, is there not?"

"Did you ask me here on purpose to catechise me?" recovering her voice at last. "Then I wish you 'good evening,'" and she turned to leave him.

But Guy stepped quickly before her and seized the hand that reached for the door.

"Do not dismiss me so curtly, Dexie, but shake hands when you bid me 'good-bye' to-night."

Dexie laid her hand in his, and he held it close, while for one brief moment her eyes were raised to his, then as quickly averted; but that was all Guy needed--the secret was his at last.