HOW THE HEART OF MAURICE GREW HOT WITHIN HIM, AND HOW HE PUT THE
QUESTION TO THE TOUCH, AND HOW HE NEITHER LOST NOR WON.



Mrs. Bethune, sauntering slowly between the bushes laden with
exquisite blooms, all white and red and yellow, looks up as he
approaches her with a charming start.

"You!" she says, smiling, and holding out her hand--a large hand but
beautiful. "It is my favourite spot. But that _you_ should have come
here too!"

"You knew I should come!" returns he gravely. Something in her
charming air of surprise jars upon him at this moment. Why should
she pretend?--and to him!

"I knew?"

"You told me you were coming here."

"Ah, what a lovely answer!" says she, with a glance from under her
long lashes, that--whatever her answer may be--certainly _is_
lovely.

Rylton regards her moodily. If she really loved him, would she
coquet with him like this--would she so pretend? All in a second, as
he stands looking at her, the whole of the past year comes back to
him. A strange year, fraught with gladness and deep pain--with fears