"What a fatality!" muttered the girl. "He is coming to meet me; has been watching me, perhaps." She stood calmly gazing up at the snow-laden branches, and again she saw herself standing underneath them, a hesitating girl, wondering if she could let her lover go away alone. Then she turned her head and her eyes met those of Lucian Davlin. "Good morning, Miss Payne," he said, lifting his hat with his usual grace. "I am happy to know that we have one taste in common--a love of nature in this disguise. Is not the wintry world beautiful?" "Beautiful, indeed," replied Madeline, resuming her walk homeward. "The trees are fairy palaces. It is lovelier than Summer, is it not?" "It is very lovely," gazing not at the trees but down into her face, "but--so cold." She understood his meaning and replied, calmly: "Cold? Yes; it is not Summer." "No," he assented, with a sad intonation, "it is not Summer. Miss Payne, Madeline, will it ever be Summer again?" Madeline looked up and about her, and smiled as she did so. "Yes," she replied, "it will be Summer--soon." He had turned and retraced his steps at her side. She was walking swiftly again, and for some time neither spoke. When they entered the grounds of the manor, he said, half deprecatingly: "Madeline, may I ask this one question?" "Yes," quietly. "I saw you pause under that tree and look about you," he said, slowly; "was it because you thought of other days, and of me?" Slowly she turned her face toward him, saying, simply: "Yes." They were nearing the entrance, and he half stopped to ask his next question. "Will you tell me what were your thoughts, Madeline?" Slowly she ascended the steps, and at the door turned and faced him: "I will tell you to-night." And with a ripple of laughter on her lips, she entered the hall of Oakley. CHAPTER XLVIII. THE SWORD OF FATE. Evening at Oakley. At last the long day was done: the day that to Madeline Payne had seemed almost endless. At last, too, the early evening hours had dragged themselves away, and the time of her triumph was at hand. From out Hagar's cottage a silent party issued, and took their way across the snow to the little stile just above the terrace walk. Here they paused for a moment. Some one was loitering on the terrace, where the shadows fell thickest. Madeline stepped through the gap, saying softly: "Joliffe!" Immediately the form emerged from the shadow. It was the cat-like waiting-maid. "It's all right, Miss," she said, in a whisper. "They are all in the drawing-room, but I think they are getting uneasy." "Well, I will not keep them in suspense long," said Madeline, and in the darkness she smiled triumphantly. "Lead on, Joliffe." Silently they moved on, and paused again at the side entrance; the one from which Cora had endeavored to escape but a short time before. Madeline opened the door, and in another moment she, with Mrs. Ralston, Claire Keith, Clarence Vaughan and two strangers, stood within the walls of Oakley.