The wicked woman paused, trembling at her own wickedness; while her brother, burying his face in his hands, groaned aloud. It was an hour of bitter trial, for Rosa Lee alone had touched his heart, and could he give her up just as he had found how dear she was to him? For a time the selfish nature of the man prevailed, and then there came a moment of calmer reflection: if Rose loved another, would it be right for him to mar her happiness by intruding upon her his affection? Should he not rather rejoice in knowing that _she_ was happy with the man she had chosen, and if, henceforth, the world to him was dark and cheerless, might he not occasionally gather a gleam of comfort from knowing that no shadow was across _her_ pathway! Thus he reasoned, and when his sister ventured at last to say, “You will not be foolish enough to talk with her,” he answered, “No—no—of coarse not;” then, with no visible sign of the fierce storm which had swept over him, save the extreme pallor of his face, he arose, and with a firm tread went back to his home, unconscious of the tear-wet eyes which followed his retreating footsteps, as from her window Rosa Lee watched him with a despairing heart and benumbed faculties. Not again that day was Cedar Grove gladdened by his presence, and when next morning he came as was his wont, I was the betrothed of Dr. Clayton, who, with joy beaming in every look, sat by my side, talking to me of the pleasure we should experience in our projected European tour, for we were to visit the Old World, and he wished our marriage to be consummated at once, so we could sail the last of June. In a measure I had dealt candidly with him, frankly acknowledging that the love I had felt for him in childhood was gone, but saying, as was true, that I respected him—yes, _liked_ him, and if he was satisfied with that, I would be unto him a faithful wife, hoping that the affection of former years might ere long awake again in my heart. And he was content to take me thus, blessing me for the utterance of words which had made him so happy. Involuntarily I shrank from him, for I knew I was undeserving of such devotion, and my conscience smote me for withholding from him the knowledge of my love for Richard Delafield. But that was a secret I could not reveal, so I kept it to myself, and with a kind of apathetic indifference listened while he depicted in glowing colors the joyous future which he saw before him when I should be indeed his _wife_. He was going to New Orleans on business, which would detain him for three or four weeks, and on his return he asked that the ceremony might be performed, and I go with him to Meadow Brook as his bride. “No, not so soon,” I exclaimed. “Leave me my freedom a little longer;” but he only smiled as he waived aside every objection and won from me a promise that if Mrs. Lansing were willing, we would be married there as soon as he should return from New Orleans, whither he would start the next night.