"Stay," said Graydon, eagerly; "one so gifted with second-sight should be able to read the thoughts of others." "Whose?" Madge asked, demurely. "Whose indeed? As if you did not know! Miss Wildmere's." "What! Reveal a woman's thoughts? I won't speak to you again to-night;" and she left him with his tranquillity not a little disturbed. CHAPTER XXV GOSSAMER THREADS Mr. Muir was to depart on the early train the following morning, and was pleased when Madge opened her door at the same time and said, "I'm going to see that you have a good breakfast and a good send-off." She chattered merrily with him during the meal, ignoring his somewhat wistful and questioning glances. "When shall we see you again, Henry?" she asked. "Friday evening, I hope." "Don't work and worry too much." "I defy fate now. You've given me your luck." "Heaven forbid! Well, good-by." A little later she and two of her boys, as she called them, were off on the hills. Mrs. Muir and Graydon breakfasted long after, and the latter observed with a frown that Arnault was still at the Wildmere table, with all the serenity of one _en famille_. "Doctor," he said, a little later, "how much will you take--the money to be given to your chapel--to go trouting with me for a day?" "A good round sum," Dr. Sommers replied. "All right. When can you go?" "Wednesday, I guess, if I can leave my patients." "Oh, come now; go and give your patients a chance to get well." "Wait till I catch you sick, and I'll pay you up for that." "You'll stand a better chance of catching trout." The day passed much as usual, only Arnault appeared in the ascendant. "He is going to town in a day or two," pleaded the diplomat, after dinner. "And I'm going trouting," Graydon replied. "When?" "Soon." "Only for a day, I suppose." "It depends on my luck. You will get on better when I'm away." "It's cruel for you to speak like that," she replied, her eyes moistening. "I suppose it is," was his rueful reply; "but I can be more patient, I imagine, back in the mountains than here." "But how about poor me?" "That is a question that I often ask myself, Miss Wildmere, but you alone can answer it. As far as I am able to judge, you can meet the problem in your mind, whatever it is, as well, if not better, in my absence. You must understand me, and I have promised to be reasonably patient." "Very well, Mr. Muir," she replied, in apparent sadness, "I will try not to tax your patience beyond what you well term reason." "Something far beyond reason, and--I may add--pride also, permits you to tax it all. I would rather not revert to this topic again. It is embarrassing to us both. I cannot help saying, however, that it is essential to my happiness that the present state of affairs should soon cease." "If it were only present happiness that one had to consider--" she began, and then hastened away. Thus she played upon his sympathy, and held him by the generous side of his nature.