him of seeing Evelyn Howard must be of his own seeking.

There was a pause after the reading of this aggrieved, dignified little
message.

"And can you, as a gentleman of honor, reconcile your neglect of the
writer?" asked Lina Dent, in a voice in which a cadence of scorn
involuntarily sounded.

"Honor! Can't you see that honor was what kept me from her? Such honor
as a man feels when he knows that he is poised between a Scylla and a
Charybdis of desperate fatality?"

"There can be but one answer to all this, Dr. Gardner," the girl replied
with proud dignity. "It would ill become me to sit in judgment on you
after what I have received at your hands; but you will acknowledge that
it was cruelly inconsiderate to seek my love while a barrier such as
this existed. How do I know that you will not love your betrothed after
you have seen her?"

"Love her--love any other than you, my beautiful, peerless one? Do not
torture me with such a supposition. I care nothing for Evelyn Howard;
I do not know her; I do not care to know her; nor is she in the least
dependent upon me for happiness. She has vast wealth, and can command
whatever fate she chooses."

"But wealth cannot buy happiness," she sadly replied, "and our course
is clear. I can see you no more till you have met your betrothed and
received your dismissal--or,"--and her clear cheek paled again--"made up
your mind to fulfill your promise to her. Farewell! I thank you for your