"Not by myself, dear," said Elsie; and Katie knew that the wounded heart had gone for healing and asked for strength to endure in silence, rather than a feather-weight of the burden should fall on her sister's shoulders. A little rap at the door at this critical moment, and a maid appeared, saying that Mr. Gilmour was in the drawing-room; Mrs. Manning was engaged, and would one of the young ladies please to see him? Elsie shrank away like a frightened fawn, and insisted that her sister should see the visitor. "I could not go like this, Katie. Look at my eyes!" And Elsie convinced herself by a glance at the mirror that she really was not presentable. It must be owned that no sooner was Katie out of the room than she did her utmost to make herself so, but she received no summons, and when her sister returned, it was only to say that Mr. Gilmour had really seen Mrs. Manning and offered his congratulations, and that the rest of his business referred simply to the Christmas decorations, which were to be commenced at 7 p.m. "I have promised we will both be punctual." "I did not mean to go, Katie." "But you will, dear?" And Elsie did go. I think it must have been on the walk home that the very last vestige of the barrier between Gilmour and Elsie vanished, never to be rebuilt. But before that, Miss Chatterton's sharp eyes had observed a change in both these young people. She took an interest in the decorations, and had brought her niece to help. All in vain. The young clergyman held his head erect when he returned the questioning look which came from behind the new eye-glasses, and he did not mind a bit for their effect in sharpening the wearer's vision. "You may have done mischief once," said Gilmour's eyes, in return, "but we have seen through it, and you can never do it again." And he assumed a pretty, protecting air towards Elsie, as if claiming a double share of privileges, to make up for all he had lost during that sad season of doubts and blunders. Miss Chatterton could not understand it, for Mrs. Manning was radiant, Uncle Edward beaming in his fatherly way on his young favourites, and Mr. Mitchelson prepared all the twigs for Katie's deft fingers to twine and shape into letters and wreaths. On Elsie's cheek was the old bright colour, though they had been growing paler and paler for months past. There was a mystery somewhere, and twenty pairs of eye-glasses would not have helped Miss Chatterton to unravel it. Douglass Gilmour did not wait for leave from Elsie, but quite unceremoniously drew her hand through his arm, and, so to speak, walked off with her. And I think it was near the gate where the lingering "Good-bye" had been said four months before, that these thoughtless young people forgot all about north wind and threatening snow.