Cameron, and if my Cousin Kitty likes him, as she says she does, and he
likes her as I believe he must, why, I hope--"

Morris Grant could not finish the sentence; for he did not hope that
Wilford Cameron would win the gem he had so long coveted as his own.

He might give Kitty up because she loved another best. He was generous
enough to do that, but if he did it, she must never know how much it
cost him, and lest he should betray himself he could not to-night talk
with her longer of Wilford Cameron, whom he believed to be his rival. It
was time now for Katy to go home, but she did not seem to remember it
until Morris suggested to her that her mother might be uneasy if she
stayed away much longer, and so they went together across the fields,
the shadow all gone from Katy's heart, but lying so dark and heavy
around Morris Grant, who was glad when he could leave Katy at the
farmhouse door and go back alone to the quiet library, where only God
could witness the mighty struggle it was for him to say: "Thy will be
done." And while he prayed, not that Katy should be his, but that he
might have strength to bear it if she were destined for another, Katy,
up in her humble bedroom, with her head nestled close to Helen's neck,
was telling her of Wilford Cameron, who, when they went down the rapids
and she had cried with fear, had put his arm around her, trying to quiet
her, and who once again, on the mountain overlooking Lake George, had
held her hand a moment, while he pointed out a splendid view seen
through the opening trees. And Helen, listening, knew just as Morris
Grant had done that Katy's heart was lost, and that for Wilford Cameron
to deceive her now would be a cruel thing.