such noble words as hers made men heroes. Then he remembered how
Dora would weep if he were in trouble, and clasp her arms round
his neck.

"We shall still be friends, Miss Charteris?" he said, pleadingly.
"Whatever comes you will not give me up?"

"I will be your friend while I live," said Valentine, holding out
her white hand, and her voice never faltered. "You have trusted
me--I shall never forget that. I am your friend, and Dora's
also."

The words came so prettily from her lips that Ronald smiled.

"Dora would be quite alarmed at you," he said; "she is so timid
and shy."

Then he told Valentine of Dora's pretty, artless ways, of her
love for all things beautiful in nature, always returning to one
theme--her great love for him. He little dreamed that the calm,
stately beauty listened as one on the rack--that while he was
talking of Dora she was trying to realize the cold, dreary blank
that had suddenly fallen over her life, trying to think what the
future would be passed without him, owning to herself that for
this rash, chivalrous marriage, for his generous love, she
admired him more than ever.

The hand that played carelessly among the wild flowers had ceased
to tremble, the proud lips had regained their color, and then
Valentine arose, as she was going out with Lady Earle after