glance had conveyed the estimate of society. If she could believe
herself first in Graydon's thoughts she would not be cast down, but
now the truth was overwhelming.

She leaned away from him in the corner of the carriage, but he put his
strong arm round her and drew her to his breast. She tried to resist,
but was powerless. Then came the torturing thought, "If I repel
him--if I act differently--he will guess the reason," and she was
passive; but he felt her slight form tremble.

"My poor little ghost, you are ill in very truth! I'm indeed sorry
that I left you so long."

"Believe me, Graydon, I am ill. Please let that excuse me and explain.
Oh, that I--I were strong, like Miss Wildmere!"

"Isn't she a beauty?" exclaimed the unconscious Graydon. "The man who
wins her might well be proud, for he would have competitors by the
score."

"Your chances seem excellent," said Madge, in a low tone.

He laughed complacently, but added: "You don't know these society
belles. They can show a great deal of favor to more than one fellow,
yet never permit themselves to be pinned by a definite promise. They
are harder to catch and hold than a wild Bedouin; but such a girl as
Miss Wildmere is worth the effort. Yes, Madge, I do wish you were like
her. It would be grand sport to champion you in society and see you
run amuck among the fellows. It's a thousand pities that you are such
an invalid. I've thought more than once that you were designed to be a