hour is of consequence."

"What do you think of my story?" asked Ronald, anxiously. "Have
I done right or wrong?"

"Do not ask me," replied Valentine.

"Yes," he urged, "I will ask again; you are my friend. Tell me,
have I done right or wrong?"

"I can speak nothing but truth," replied Valentine, "and I think
you have done wrong. Do not be angry. Honor is everything; it
ranks before life or love. In some degree you have tarnished
yours by an underhand proceeding, a private marriage, one
forbidden by your parents and distasteful to them."

Ronald's face fell as her words came to him slowly and clearly.

"I thought," said he, "I was doing a brave deed in marrying Dora.
She had no one to take her part but me."

"It was a brave deed in one sense," said Valentine. "You have
proved yourself generous and disinterested. Heaven grant that
you may be happy!"

"She is young and impressionable," said Ronald; "I can easily
mold her to my own way of thinking. You look very grave, Miss
Charteris."

"I am thinking of you," she said, gently; "it seems to me a grave