For a moment Queenie stood as though rooted to the threshold. She had purposely remained out of the apartment, seeing Jess enter, until he had time enough to tell her his errand there, and the picture that met her startled eyes went through her heart like the sharp thrust of a sword. “My God! is it possible that he has changed his mind about parting from her? Does he love her?” was Queenie’s mental cry. At the sight of the beautiful vision in the doorway, John Dinsmore springs to his feet, putting his young wife hastily from him. Jess is blushing like a full-blown rose in June. “Oh, Mrs. Brown--Queenie--don’t be so terribly shocked, please,” she cries, dancing to her side and flinging her arms around her. “I am going to explain something about this gentleman which will surprise you dreadfully. He is my husband!” And as she utters the words triumphantly, she steps back and looks at Queenie, cresting her pretty head sideways, like a young robin. It is a most embarrassing moment for Dinsmore. He stands pale and silent, between them, wondering if ever mortal man was placed in such a wretched predicament. On one side stands the girl he loves, the girl he wooed and lost on that never-to-be-forgotten summer by the murmuring sea, and on the other side the girl who loves him, the girl to whom he is bound fast by marriage bonds, and to whom he owes loyalty and protection. From deathlike paleness his face flushed hotly. He longed to seize his hat and rush from the house. In his dilemma fate favored him. There is a ring at the bell, and the next instant callers are announced in the sonorous voice of the servant. John Dinsmore seized this opportunity to make his adieus. He never afterward remembered just how it was accomplished, or what he said. He only remembered telling Jess that she should hear from him on the morrow. The next instant the cold air of the street was blowing on his face. He had gone without kissing the quivering mouth of his young girl-bride. He had not even seen that it was held up to him for a parting caress. Queenie noted that fact in triumph. “It would not take so long to get a divorce from her, and then---- Ah, Heaven! the one longing of her life would be granted. She would be his wife.” Queenie was so carried away with her own thoughts and anticipations that she was barely conscious that the girl-wife’s arms were once more thrown about her, and Jess was whispering in her ear: “Now you know why I could not marry the other one, and did not wish to see him again. I was already a wife. What do you think of my--my husband? Is he not adorable?” CHAPTER XLI. “WAS IT ALL A DREAM?” “Mine is an unchanging love, Higher than the heights above, Deeper than depths beneath, Free and faithful, strong as death.” Many a long hour, while the great city was sleeping that night, Queenie paced the floor of her boudoir, deeply absorbed in her own turbulent thoughts.