She laughed, and the sound thrilled the man as her beauty did. It was new, and wonderful. He staggered to his feet and reached out to her like a man blinded by a sudden glare. She evaded his touch, and gave that wild little laugh again. "You like it?" she asked, from across the table. "Like it? You--are--divine!" "Why--did--you--do it?" "I had a mad fancy to see just how great your--beauty was." "And--you see?" "Heavens! I do see." "And you think?" "What any man would think," Gaston's excitement was rising, "who had been starved for--years--and then finds all he's hungered for--alone in the North Woods. Think?" The breaking of a flaming log startled them, and it steadied Gaston for a moment. Joyce had herself well in hand. The victory was hers if only she could command this new power long enough. "Please," she pleaded, "please sit down. I have something to say to you." CHAPTER XII Gaston sank back in his chair, and Joyce sat down opposite. The table was between them, and the light of the fire and lamp flooded over the girl. She was wonderful in that gown, and with her splendid, pale hair framing her face with its fair glory. The shock of surprise was passing, but Gaston still looked at the girl as if he had never seen her before. "What is it, Joyce?" he asked presently; "what has changed you so?" Then he smiled, for the question seemed crude and ill-advised. "The dress--isn't that what you wanted?" "I do not mean the dress--there is something else." "So there is--but it came with the dress. Perhaps you--did not order that--well, then, it must be _your_ part of the surprise. Don't you remember that story you read to me once--about the mantle of Elijah? You know it made the humble wearer--great. Well, these pretty things,"--she touched them lightly--"they make me--a woman. The sort of woman who must--ask questions--and get answers--true answers." "Why, don't you trust--me?" The pained question was wrung from Gaston's lips. The steady look from the big eyes went strangely to his heart. "I--do--not know--you--as you--are now," she said firmly. "It is not I who am changed, Joyce, it is you. Everything is just the same except that I see you are more--wonderful than I dreamed." "Nothing is going to be the same again. I knew it while Mr. Drew was talking the other day--I have thought it all out since." "Curse him!" Gaston broke in; "what did he say? Why did you go to him Joyce? How could you?" There was pain in the words--pain and a dumb fear. "It only happened to be Mr. Drew. Some one would have made me know in time." "Joyce;" he was actually pleading with her! The knowledge burnt into the quickening soul. "Joyce, what did you trust in me, before you went to Drew?" "Your goodness--your--unselfishness. I knew the goodness--I have only begun to see the--unselfishness."