On the day following the scene in which Sally Pendleton had turned Miss Rogers from the house--which had been witnessed by the indignant young doctor--he called upon his betrothed, hoping against hope that she might be induced to relent, even at the eleventh hour, and let him off from this, to him, abhorrent engagement. He found Sally arrayed in her prettiest dress--all fluffy lace and fluttering baby-blue ribbons--but he had no eyes for her made-up, doll-like sort of beauty. She never knew just when to expect him, for he would never give her the satisfaction of making an appointment to call, giving professional duties as an excuse for not doing so. Sally arrayed herself in her best every evening, and looked out from behind the lace-draped windows until the great clock in the hall chimed the hour of nine; then, in an almost ungovernable rage, she would go up to her room, and her mother and Louisa would be made to suffer for her disappointment. On the day in question she had seen Jay Gardiner coming up the stone steps, and was ready to meet him with her gayest smile, her jolliest laugh. "It is always the unexpected which happens, Jay," she said, holding out both her lily-white hands. "Welcome, a hundred times welcome!" He greeted her gravely. He could not have stooped and kissed the red lips that were held up to him if the action would have saved his life. He was so silent and _distrait_ during the time, that Sally said: "Aren't you well this morning, Jay, or has something gone wrong with you?" she asked, at length. "I do feel a trifle out of sorts," he replied. "But pardon me for displaying my feelings before--a lady." "Don't speak in that cold, strange fashion, Jay," replied the girl, laying a trembling hand on his arm. "You forget that I have a right to know what is troubling you, and to sympathize with and comfort you." He looked wistfully at her. Would it do to tell her the story of his love for Bernardine? Would she be moved to pity by the drifting apart of two lives because of a betrothal made in a spirit of fun at a race? He hardly dared hope so. "I was thinking of a strange case that came under my observation lately," he said, "and somehow the subject has haunted me--even in my dreams--probably from the fact that it concerns a friend of mine in whom I take a great interest." "Do tell me the story!" cried Sally, eagerly--"please do."