admiration, respect, and even love, instead of his pity. What could be
more absurd than to imagine that he could give aught else to one like
herself? "Oh, what a blind fool I have been!" she moaned--"blind
to the wants of my own heart, blind to the truth that a man needs a
strong, genial companion, and not a dependent shadow."

Graydon's sudden departure took from her project many obstacles and
embarrassments. She was not afraid of her sister or her remonstrances,
and felt that she could convince Mr. Muir that the change gave the
best promise for the future. Graydon's objections would have been hard
to meet. He might have been led to guess her motive or insist on
being her escort. Now it was merely a question of gaining sufficient
strength for the journey and of being resolute.

Mrs. Muir's opposition was not so great as Madge had feared, and Mr.
Muir even approved of the plan. The shrewd merchant's judgment was
usually correct on all practical matters, and he believed that Madge's
best chance was in a radical change. He saw that his wife's indulgence
tended to confirm her sister's lack of energy, and that it would be
best for Madge to spend the next few years with one who had regained
her health by wise endeavor. Mrs. Muir soon saw everything as her
husband viewed it, and the young girl prepared for a new world and a
new life.

It was indeed a wise decision. There could be no more aimless drifting
and brooding. A telegram to Mr. Wayland brought immediate acquiescence
in the project, which was arranged more in detail by letters. Madge
strove in every possible way to fit herself for the journey, and was
surprised at her success. Better than all tonics was the diversion of
her thoughts, the prospect of change, the necessity for action. In her