"Please excuse me just now," pleaded Carlia, to the woman. "Go eat your
breakfast without me. Mrs. Carlston, this is Mr. Trent, a neighbor of
ours at my home. I was foolish to be so scared of him. He--he wouldn't
hurt anyone." She tried bravely to smile.

Alone again, the two were ill at ease. A flood of memories, a confusion
of thoughts and feelings swept over Dorian. The living Carlia in all
her attractive beauty was before him, yet back of her stood the grim
skeleton. Could he close his eyes to that? Could he let his love for her
overcome the repulsion which would arise like a black cloud into his
thoughts? Well, time alone would tell. Just now he must be kind to her,
he must be strong and wise. Of what use is strength and wisdom if it is
unfruitful at such times as these? Dorian arose to his feet and stood in
the strength of his young manhood. He seemed to take Carlia with him,
for she also stood looking at him with her shining eyes.

"Well, Carlia," he said, "go get your breakfast, and I'll finish my
errand. You see, the storm stopped the mail carrier and me and we had
to put up at your neighbour's last night. There I found three children
greatly disappointed in not having their usual Christmas tree. I
promised I would get them one this morning, and that's what I was out
for when I saw you. You know, Carlia, it's Christmas Eve this morning,
if you'll allow that contradiction."

"Yes, I know."

"I'll come back for you. And mind, you do not try to escape. I'll be
watching the house closely. Anyway," he laughed lightly, "the snow's too
deep for you to run very far."