ear like a strain of music. "Oh, Arthur Trevlyn, be at peace with all
mankind!"

"I am--with all but _him_."

"And with _him_, also. The heart which bears malice cannot be a happy
heart. There has been a great wrong done--I have heard the sad story--but
it is divine to forgive. The man who can pardon the enemy who has wrought
him evil, rises to a height where nothing of these earthly temptations
can harm him more. He stands on a level with the angels of God. If you
have been injured, let it pass. If your parents were hurried out of the
world by his cruelty, think how much sooner they tasted the bliss of
heaven! Every wrong will in due time be avenged. Justice will be done,
for the Infinite One has promised it. Leave it in His hands. Archer,
before I leave you, promise to forgive Mr. Trevlyn."

"I cannot! I cannot!" he cried, hoarsely. "Oh, Margie, Miss Harrison, ask
of me anything but that, even to the sacrifice of my life, and I will
willingly oblige you, but not that! not that!"

"_That_ is all I ask. It is for your good and my peace of mind that I
demand it. You have no right to make me unhappy, as your persistence in
this dreadful course will do. Promise me, Archer Trevlyn!"

She put her hand on his shoulder; he turned his head and pressed his lips
upon it. She did not draw it away, but stood, melting his hard heart with
her wonderfully sweet gaze. He yielded all at once--she knew she had
conquered. He sank down on one knee before her, and bowed his face upon
his hands. She stooped over him, her hair swept his shoulders, the brown
mingling with the deeper chestnut of his curling locks.