"I have met him just now. He stopped and introduced himself. We had quite a long talk outside of Mrs. Williams's cottage. I called upon him there, you know, but he had good reasons for refusing my visits. Mrs. Cheyne, you must allow me to congratulate you most earnestly. You will own now that Providence has been good to you." "I will own that and everything," returned Magdalene, joyously. "I will own, if you like, that I treated you shamefully, and took a pleasure in tormenting you; and you were so patient,--oh, so patient, Mr. Drummond! I could have called you back sometimes and apologized, but I would not. In my bitter moments I felt it was such a relief to mock at people." "Never mind all that. Let bygones be bygones. I wish I could have served you better." And then, as he changed the subject, and spoke feelingly about the miracle of her husband's restoration, Mrs. Cheyne looked at him rather wistfully. "Oh, how good you are!" she said, softly. "Do you know, the world seems full of good people to me now; and yet once it appeared too bad a place for any one to live in. We create our own atmosphere,--at least so Herbert tells me. But you are looking thin, Mr. Drummond,--thin and pale. You must be working too hard." "Oh, as to that, hard work never hurts any one," he replied, carelessly; but there was something forced in his tone. Phillis, who had been sitting apart quite silently, raised her eyes involuntarily from her work. Was it her fancy, or had some undefinable change passed over him? They had seen him so little of late. Since all this had happened at the White House he had called once or twice; and once Nan had been there, and he had spoken to her much as usual. No one would have detected any difference in his manner, except that he was a little grave and preoccupied. Nan had not noticed anything; but then she was singularly blind in such matters. Had she not vaguely hinted that his visits were on Phillis's account?--that mere hint conveying exquisite pain to Phillis. Now, as she stole a glance at him, the conviction was strong within her that the arrow had gone deep. He certainly looked a little thin and care-worn, and something of a young man's vigor and hopefulness seemed temporarily impaired. But, as it happened, that girlish scrutiny was not unperceived by Archie. In a moment he was on the alert. His eyes challenged hers boldly, and it was Phillis who flushed and looked conscious. It was as though he said to her, "Ah! you think you know all about it. But you need not trouble yourself to be sorry for me; you do not know what a man's strength can do. And I am determined to bear this by myself, and to myself; for in silence there is power."