She glanced round her study to see that everything was in order--and then took up a neatly tied parcel of manuscript--her third book--completed. She had a fancy--one of many, equally harmless,--that she would like to deliver it herself to the publishers rather than send it by post, on this day of all days, when plans for the future were to be discussed with her lover and everything settled for their mutual happiness. Her heart grew light with joyous anticipation as she ran downstairs and nodded smilingly at the maid Rachel, who stood ready at the door to open it for her passing. "If Miss Leigh comes home before I do, tell her I will not be long," she said, as she stepped into her brougham and was whirled away. At the office of her publishers she was expected and received with eager homage. The head of the firm took the precious packet of manuscript from her hand with a smile of entire satisfaction. "You are up to your promised time, Miss Armitage!" he said, kindly--"And you must have worked very hard. I hope you'll give yourself a good long rest now?" She laughed, lightly. "Oh, well!--perhaps!" she answered--"If I feel I can afford it! I want to work while I'm young--not to rest. But I think Miss Leigh would like a change--and if she does I'll take her wherever she wishes to go. She is so kind to me!--I can never do enough for her!" The publisher looked at her sweet, thoughtful face curiously. "Do you never think of yourself?" he asked--"Must you always plan some pleasure for others?" She glanced at him in quick surprise. "Why, of course!" she replied--"Pleasure for others is the only pleasure possible to me. I assure you I'm quite selfish!--I'm greedy for the happiness of those I love--and if they can't or won't be happy I'm perfectly miserable!" He smiled,--and when she left, escorted her himself out of his office to her brougham with a kind friendliness that touched her. "You won't let me call you a brilliant author," he said, as he shook hands with her--"Perhaps it will please you better if I say you are a true woman!" Her eyes flashed up a bright gratitude,--she waved her hand in parting--as the brougham glided off. And never to his dying day did that publisher and man of hard business detail forget the radiance of the face that smiled at him that afternoon,--a face of light and youth and loveliness, as full of hope and faith as the face of a pictured angel kneeling at the feet of the Madonna with heaven's own glory encircling it in gold.