The sudden return of Carlia Duke to her home created as much talk as her disappearance had done. Dorian was besieged with enquirers whom he smilingly told that he had just come across her taking a little vacation up in the hills. What, in the hills in the depths of winter? Why, yes; none but those who have tried it know the comfort and the real rest one may obtain shut out by the snow from the world, in the solitude of the hills. He told as little as possible of the details of his search, even to Carlia's parents. Any unpleasant disclosures would have to come from her to them, he reasoned. Not being able to get Dorian talking about the case, the good people of Greenstreet soon exhausted their own knowledge of the matter, so in a short time, the gossip resumed its every-day trend. Hardly a day passed without Dorian spending some time with Carlia. She would not go to Sunday School or to Mutual, and it was some time before he could convince her that it was a matter of wisdom as well as of right that she should attend some of the public ward meetings. Frequently, he took his book to the Duke home and read aloud to Carlia. This she enjoyed very much. Sometimes the book was a first class novel, but oftener it was a scientific text or a religions treatise. Carlia listened attentively to his discussion of deep problems, and he was agreeably surprised to learn that she could readily follow him in the discussion of these themes; so that the long winter evenings spent with her either at her home or at his own became a source of great inspiration to the young man who had not lost sight or the mission assigned to him by the beloved Uncle Zed. Dorian talked freely to Carlia on how he might best fulfill the high destiny which seemed to lay before him; and Carlia entered enthusiastically into his plans. "Fine, fine," she would say. "Carry it out. You can do it." "With your help, Carlia." "I'll gladly help you all I can; but that is so little; what can I do?" "Trust me, have faith in me; and when the time comes, marry me." This was usually the end of the conversation for Carlia; she became silent unless he changed the subject. Dorian, naturally undemonstrative, was now more careful than ever in his love making. The intimacy between them never quite returned to the earlier state. Complete forgetfulness of what had been, was, of course, impossible, either for Carlia or for Dorian; but he tried manfully not to let the "specter" come too often between him and the girl he loved. He frequently told her that he loved her, but it was done by simple word or act. Dorian's greater knowledge gave him the advantage over her. He was bound by this greater knowledge to be the stronger, the wiser, the one who could keep all situations well in hand. One evening, when Carlia was unusually sweet and tempting, he asked if he might kiss her goodnight. She set her face as if it were hard to deny him, but she finally said: "No; you must not." "Why not, Carlia?"