sickly little girl, with a dismal present and a more dreary outlook.
Sometimes he mentally compared her with the brilliant girls he met in
society, and especially with one but a little older than Madge, who
appeared a natural queen in the drawing-room. His life abounded in
activity, interests, and pleasures, and if it was his impulse to throw
a little zest into the experiences of those in society who had no
claims upon him, he was still more disposed to cheer and amuse the
invalid in his own home. Moreover, he had become sincerely fond of
her. Madge was neither querulous nor stupid. Although not conceited,
he had the natural vanity of a handsome and successful man, and while
the evident fact that he was such a hero in her eyes amused him, it
also predisposed him to kindly and sympathetic feeling toward her.
He saw that she gave him not only a sisterly allegiance, but also a
richer and fuller tribute, and that in her meagre and shadowed life he
was the brightest element. She tried to do more for him than for any
one else, while she made him feel that as an invalid she could not do
very much, and that he should not expect it. She would often play
for him an hour at a time, and again she would be so languid that no
coaxing could lure her from the sofa. Occasionally she would even read
aloud a few pages with her musical and sympathetic voice, but would
soon throw down the book with an air of exhaustion, and plead that he
would read to her. In her weakness there was nothing repulsive, and
without calculation she made many artless appeals to his strength. He
generously responded, saying to himself, "Poor little thing! she has
a hard time of it. With her great black eyes she might be a beauty if
she only had health and was like other girls; but as it is, she is so
light and pale and limp that I sometimes feel as if I were petting a
wraith."

Of late she had begun to go out with him a little, he choosing