said to himself. "There is some game on hand to get the best of generous,
simple-hearted, unsuspecting Jack, sure, and while I cannot fathom it I
will keep watch."

Then, there was the enchantment that Grace Meredith had woven around his
life. Every morning she greeted him with a smile, a welcome word and a
hand clasp that set his blood tingling. Her breath was in the air that he
breathed, and when at night the hand-clasp and the smile were repeated,
and the good-nights spoken, it all fell upon him like a benediction; and,
going to his apartment, he would ask himself what his life would be were
the smile, the word, and the hand-clasp to be his no more.

After a few days there came a change in Grace. She was as cordial as
ever, as gently considerate as ever, but she seemed to lose vivacity. She
was often lost in revery; a sadder smile seemed to give expression to her
face; she did not laugh with the old ringing laugh; there seemed to come
in her look when she suddenly encountered Sedgwick, something which was
the opposite of a blush--as opposite as the white rose is to the blush
rose.

In those days the steady conscience of Sedgwick was undergoing many
self-questionings. Should he offer his love and be rejected, what then?
Should the impossible happen and he should be accepted, what then? Should
he carry the petted London girl to his home and friends in the Miami
Valley, would there not be reproaches felt even if not spoken? Thus he
vexed himself day after day; night after night he tossed restlessly, and
saw no way to break the entanglement that had entwined his life. But he
kept watch of Jack and the old men.

Meanwhile, Jack had read over and over the prospectus of the "Wedge of