of no false hopes."

Having reached this prudent conclusion, Graham yawned, smiled at the
unwonted mood in which he had indulged, and with the philosophic
purpose of finding an opiate in the pages that had contained one
paragraph rather too exciting, he took up the copy of Emerson that he
had borrowed. The book fell open, indicating that some one had often
turned to the pages before him. One passage was strongly marked on
either side and underscored. With a laugh he saw that it was the one
he had been dwelling upon--"No man ever forgot," etc.

"Now I know why she blushed slightly and hesitated to lend me this
volume," he thought. "I suppose I may read in this instance, 'No woman
ever forgot.' Of course, it would be strange if she had not learned to
understand these words. What else has she marked?"

Here and there were many delicate marginal lines indicating approval
and interest, but they were so delicate as to suggest that the strong
scoring of the significant passage was not the work of Miss St. John,
but rather of some heavy masculine hand. This seemed to restore the
original reading, "No _man_ ever forgot," and some man had apparently
tried to inform her by his emphatic lines that he did not intend to
forget.

"Well, suppose he does not and cannot," Graham mused. "That fact
places her under no obligations to be 'all eye and memory' for him.
And yet her blush and hesitancy and the way the book falls open at
this passage look favorable for him. I can win her gratitude by
amusing the old major, and with that, no doubt, I shall have to be
content."