“I’ll get the mirror,” she continued, going to the tree and taking it from the box. Wiping it carefully with her handkerchief she handed it to him saying, “It is perfectly clean, with all the faces which have ever looked in it rubbed off. If you don’t see anyone you may rest assured you are to live single all your life, and never give matrimony another thought.” She spoke playfully, but Rex caught eagerly at her words and said, “Do you think so? Are you sure?” “Yes, sure. Don’t be afraid; you will see nothing,” Irene answered. “All right; but don’t tell Tom or anyone. I feel half ashamed,” Rex said, with a feeling that he did not quite know what he was saying or doing as he took the mirror and started for the well. One idea, however, was very distinct in his mind. He should see nothing, and if he did not Irene had said he need never trouble himself about matrimony. He would try it, and just as the village clock began to strike twelve he stepped rather airily upon the projecting stone, with a feeling that he was about to shake off that incubus of the will which had haunted him so long. “Take your time. It will make no difference if I do not look till after twelve, so I’ll sit here and shut my eyes so as not to watch you,” Irene said to him, and her voice had a sound as if she were far away. Every thing began to seem far away and strange and his real self the strangest and farthest away of all. He had scoffed mentally at the well and thought every one weak who looked in it. And now here he was holding the mirror which, for aught he knew, might have been wrong side out. And yet his eyes were intently fixed upon it and he half closed them as a ray of strong sunlight fell upon it and dazzled him, bringing back the pain he had complained of to Tom and with it the buzzing of the hornets so loud now that he could not have heard a much more distinct footstep than the one which approached him cautiously across the soft bed of pines and moss. The figure standing close behind him scarcely breathed as it bent forward close to him. If he caught her she had only to call it a joke, such as Tom had played on Rena. But he would not catch her. He was too much absorbed and she stood looking over his shoulder until the half of a face was reflected in the mirror beside his own, and Rex saw it with a sensation he could not define except that the solid foundations seemed to be moving from under him and he was in danger of falling as he stood paralyzed and fascinated with wonder and something akin to fear. He had expected nothing and yet there surely was a face beside his which he knew so well, although only half of it was visible. He could not be mistaken in the blonde hair a la Pompadour, the rounded cheek and more than all the one blue eye confronting him so steadily with something like a laugh in it.