life away from you. If you are going to throw me over, I shall cut
college and go away."

She loved him all the better for his impatience.

"Anna," he said--the two dark heads were close together, the madness of
the impulse was too much for both. Their lips met in a first long
kiss. The man was to have his way. The kiss proved a more eloquent
argument than all his pleading.

"Say you will, Anna."

"Yes," she whispered.

And then they heard the street door open and close, and the voices of
Mrs. Tremont and her daughter, as they made their way to the library.
And the two young souls, who hovered on the brink of heaven, were
obliged to listen to the latest gossip of fashionable Boston.




CHAPTER III.

CONTAINING SOME REFLECTIONS AND THE ENTRANCE OF MEPHISTOPHELES.


"Not all that heralds rake from coffin'd clay,
Nor florid prose, nor horrid lies of rhyme,
Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime."--_Byron_.