bearing, mingled with her sweet, unaffected enthusiasms, were a swift
revelation to one who had never in his life before given a second
thought to any girl; and a fierce longing to win her love had taken
possession of his whole being, as he had confessed to Mrs. Douglas.

But to-day there was a chill upon him. He had before been confident of
the future. It must not, should not disappoint him, he had said to
himself again and again. Somehow he was not now so sure of himself and
it. There seemed a mystery before him. The way that had always before
seemed to open to his will refused to disclose itself. How could he win
the affection of this noble girl, whose life already seemed so full that
she felt no lack, who was so warm and generous in her feelings to all,
so thoroughly unselfish, so wholesome, so lovable? How he did long to
make all her wishes centre on him, even as his did upon her!

But Barbara's ideals were high. She would demand much of him whom she
could love. Only the other day he had heard her say in a voice deep with
feeling that money and position were nothing in comparison with a life
that was ever giving itself to enrich others. Whom did she mean? he
wondered. It seemed as if she knew some one who was even then in her
mind, and a fierce jealousy sprang up with the thought. She surely
could not have meant him, for he had never lived for any other than
himself, nor did he wish to think of anything but himself. He wanted to
get well and to have Barbara love him. Then he would take her away from
everybody else and lavish everything upon her, and how happy would he
be! Could he only look into the future, he thought, and see that this
was to come, he would ask nothing else.

Poor Howard! Could the future have opened before his wish never so
little, how soon would his restless, raging emotions have become hushed