It certainly seemed as though a new strength had come to Archie. He had been a man who was prone to speak much of his feelings. Irritable and sensitive, he had demanded much sympathy from his womankind. His was a nature that craved support in his work; but now, not even to Grace, could he speak of this trouble that had befallen him. Was it a trouble, after all, this vague shadow that lay about his path? No one but he himself knew the sweetness and graciousness of the dream that had come to him. It had only been a dream, after all; and now he was awake. The vision he had conjured up to himself had faded into unreality. She was not his second self: never by look or word had he wooed her; she was only the woman he could have loved. This was how he put it; and now he would bury this faint hope that was still-born,--that had never had breathed into it the breath of life. And if for a little while his future should be cloudy and bereft of its sunshine, was he the only one to whom "some days must be dark and dreary"? Phillis's unspoken sympathy drooped under this stern repression; and yet in her heart she reverenced him all the more for this moral strength,--for there is nothing a true woman abhors more than weakness in a man. After this silent rebuff, Archie took himself well in hand, and began to speak of other things: he told Mrs. Cheyne, being certain now of her interest, of his sister's intended marriage, and how he and Mattie were going down to the wedding. "He is a very good fellow, this intended brother-in-law of mine,--a sort of rough diamond; but hardly good enough for Isabel," he said. "Oh, yes, he is very rich. My poor little sister will have her head turned by all her magnificence; for his parents are so generous: they quite load her with gifts." And he smiled to himself at the notion of the little sister, just fresh from her narrow school-room life, rejoicing over her trousseau and her handsome house, and driving away from the church in her own carriage. No wonder his father and mother were pleased. As for the bridegroom-elect, Archie spoke of him with half-contemptuous amusement: "Oh, he was a good fellow,--no one wished to deny that;" but there was a want of culture and polish that grated upon the susceptibilities of the Oxford fellow. Phillis listened with undivided interest--especially when he mentioned Grace. "Mattie and I are in hopes that we shall bring her back with us; but, at all events, my mother has promised to spare her at Christmas." This time he addressed himself to Phillis. "Oh, that will be nice for you!" she returned a little eagerly. "You have told us so much about her that I quite long to know her." "I should say you would suit each other perfectly," he replied, as he rose to take his leave. "Sometimes you remind me of her, Miss Challoner; and yet you are not really alike. Good-bye, if I do not see you again before we go to Leeds." And Phillis gave him her hand, and a cordial smile.