"Ranald is not coming," said Maimie, when her Aunt Murray had gone.

"Indeed, from what your father says," cried Aunt Frank, indignantly, "I do not very well see how he could. He has been most impertinent."

"You are not to say that, Aunt Frank," cried Maimie. "Ranald could not be impertinent, and I will not hear it." Her tone was so haughty and fierce that Aunt Frank thought it wiser to pursue this subject no further.

"Well," she said, as she turned to leave the room, "I'm very glad he has the grace to keep away tonight. He has always struck me as a young man of some presumption."

When the door closed upon her Maimie tore the note from her bosom and pressed it again and again to her lips: "Oh, Ranald, Ranald," she cried, "I love you! I love you! Oh, why can it not be? Oh, I cannot--I cannot give him up!" She threw herself upon her knees and laid her face in the bed. In a few minutes there came a tap at the door, and her Aunt Frances's voice was heard, "Maimie, your father has gone down; we must not delay." The tone was incisive and matter-of-fact. It said to Maimie, "Now let's have no nonsense. Be a sensible woman of the world." Maimie rose from her knees. Hastily removing all traces of tears from her face, and glancing in the glass, she touched the little ringlets into place and went down to dinner.

It was a depressing meal. Mr. St. Clair was irritable; Harry perplexed and sullen; Maimie nervously talkative. Mrs. Murray was heroically holding herself in command, but the look of pain in her eyes and the pathetic tremor on her lips belied the brave smiles and cheerful words with which she seconded Aunt Frank.

After dinner the company separated, for there were still preparations to make for the evening. As Mrs. Murray was going to her room, she met Harry in the hall with his hat on.

"Where are you going, Harry?"

"Anywhere," he growled, fiercely, "to get out of this damnable hypocrisy! Pardon me, Aunt Murray, I can't help it, it IS damnable, and a whole lot of them are in it!"

Then Mrs. Murray came, and laying her hand on his arm, said: "Don't go, Harry; don't leave me; I want some one; come upstairs."

Harry stood looking at the sweet face, trying to smile so bravely in spite of the tremulous lips.

"You are a dear, brave little woman," he said, hanging up his hat, "and I'll be hanged if I don't stay by you. Come along upstairs." He stooped, and lifting her in his arms in spite of her laughing protests, carried her upstairs to her room. When they came down to the party they both looked braver and stronger.

The party was a great success. The appointments were perfect; the music the best that could be had, and Maimie more beautiful than ever. In some mysterious way, known only to Aunt Frank, the rumor of Maimie's approaching engagement got about among the guests and produced an undertone of excitement to the evenings gayety. Maimie was too excited to be quite natural, but she had never appeared more brilliant and happy, and surely she had every cause. She had achieved a dizzy summit of social success that made her at once the subject of her friends'

congratulations and her rivals' secret envy, and which was the more delightful it would be hard to say. Truly, she was a fortunate girl, but still the night was long, and she was tired of it all before it was over. The room seemed empty, and often her heart gave a leap as her eyes fell upon some form that appeared more handsome and striking than others near, but only to sink again in disappointment when a second glance told her that it was only some ordinary man. Kate, too, kept aloof in a very unpleasant way, and Harry, devoting himself to Kate, had not done his duty. But in spite of everything the party had been a great success, and when it was over Maimie went straight to bed to sleep. She knew that Ranald would be awaiting the answer to his note, but she could not bring herself to face what she knew would be an ordeal that might murder sleep for her, and sleep she must have, for she must be her best to-morrow. It would have been better for all involved had she written her answer that night; otherwise Ranald would not have been standing at her door in the early afternoon asking to see her. It was Aunt Frances who came down to the drawing-room. As Ranald stood up and bowed, she adjusted her pince-nez upon her aristocratic nose, and viewed him.

"You are wishing to see Miss St. Clair," she said, in her very chilliest tone.

"I asked to see Maimie," said Ranald, looking at her with cool, steady eyes.

"I must say, Mr. Macdonald, that after your conduct to my brother yesterday, I am surprised you should have the assurance to enter his house."

"I would prefer not discussing office matters with you," said Ranald, politely, and with a suspicion of a smile. "I have come to see Maimie."

"That, I am glad to say, is impossible, for she is at present out with Captain De Lacy who has just arrived from the East to--see--to--in short, on a very special errand."

For a moment Ranald stood without reply.

"She is out, you say?" he answered at length.

"She is out with Captain De Lacy." He caught the touch of triumph in her voice.

"Will she be back soon?" inquired Ranald, looking baffled.

"Of course one cannot tell in such a case," answered Miss St. Clair, "but I should think not." Miss St. Clair was enjoying herself. It did her good to see this insolent, square-jawed young man standing helpless before her.

"It is important that I should see her," said Ranald, after a few moments' thought. "I shall wait." Had Miss St. Clair known him better she would have noticed with some concern the slow fires kindling in his eyes. As it was she became indignant.

"That, Mr. Macdonald, you shall not; and allow me to say frankly that your boldness--your insolence--I may say, is beyond all bounds."

"Insolence, and when?" Ranald was very quiet.

"You come to the house of your employer, whom you have insulted, and demand to see his daughter."

"I have a right to see her."

"Right? What right have you, pray?"

Then Ranald stood up and looked Miss St. Clair full in the face with eyes fairly alight.

"Miss St. Clair, have you ever known what it is to love with all your soul and heart?" Miss St. Clair gasped. "Because if not, you will not understand me; if you have you will know why I must see Maimie. It is seven years now since I began to love her. I remember the spot in the woods; I see the big tree there behind her and the rising ground stretching away to the right. I see the place where I pulled her out of the fire. Every morning since that time I have waked with the thought of her; every night my eyes have closed with a vision of her before me. It is for her I have lived and worked. I tell you she is mine! I love her!

I love her, and she loves me. I know it." His words came low, fierce, and swift.

Miss St. Clair stood breathless. What a man he looked and how handsome he was!

With but a moment's pause Ranald went on, but his voice took a gentler tone. "Miss St. Clair, do you understand me? Yes, I know you do." The blood came flowing suddenly to her thin cheeks. "You say she is out with Captain De Lacy, and you mean me to think that she is to give herself to him. He loves her, I know, but I say she is mine! Her eyes have told me that. She is mine, I tell you, and no man living will take her from me."

The fire that always slumbered in his eyes was now blazing in full fury.

The great passion of his life was raging through his soul, vibrating in his voice, and glowing in his dark face. Miss St. Clair sat silent, and then motioned him to a seat.

"Mr. Macdonald," she said, with grave courtesy, "you are too late, I fear. I did not realize--Maimie will never be yours. I know my niece."

At the sad earnestness of her voice, Ranald's face began to grow pale.

"I will wait for her," he said, quietly.

"I beg you will not."

"I will wait," he repeated, with lips tight pressed.

"It is vain, Mr. Macdonald, I assure you. Spare yourself and her. I know what--I could have--" Her voice grew husky.

"I will wait," once more replied Ranald, the lines of his face growing tense.

Miss St. Clair rose and gave him her hand. "I will send a friend to you, and I beg you to excuse me," Ranald bowed gravely, "and to forgive me,"

and she left the room. Ranald heard her pass through the hall and up the stairs and then a door closed behind her. Before he had time to gather his thoughts together he heard a voice outside that made his heart stand still. Then the front door opened quickly and Maimie and De Lacy stood in the hall. She was gayly talking. Ranald rose and stood with his back to the door. Before him was a large mirror which reflected the hall through the open door. He stood waiting for them to enter.

"Hang up your hat, Captain De Lacy, then go in and find a chair while I run upstairs," cried Maimie, gayly. "You must learn your way about here now."

"No," said De Lacy, in a low, distinct voice. "I can wait no longer, Maimie."

She looked at him a moment as if in fear.

"Come," he said, holding out his hands to her. "There was no chance in the park, and I can wait no longer." Slowly she came near. "My darling, my sweetheart," he said, in a low voice full of intense passion. Then, while she lay in his arms, he kissed her on the lips twice. Ranald stood gazing in the mirror as if fascinated. As their lips met a low groan burst from him. He faced about, and with a single step, stood in the doorway. Shriek after shriek echoed through the house as Maimie sprang from De Lacy's arms and shrank back to the wall.

"Great heavens," cried De Lacy, "why it's Macdonald! What the deuce do you mean coming in on people like that?"

"What is it, Maimie," cried her Aunt Frank, hurrying down stairs.

Then she saw Ranald standing in the doorway, with face bloodless, ghastly, livid. Quickly she went up to him, and said, in a voice trembling and not ungentle: "Oh, why did you wait, Mr. Macdonald; go away now, go away."