“I was so surprised and frightened, sir, that I did not speak one word to her, but just left her standing there shivering in the middle of the room, and came away to do her bidding. Now, what answer shall I take back? Will you see her, Mr. Delaney?” He hesitated a moment, and Mrs. Griffin added, respectfully: “I think she’s in a hurry, sir, and perhaps she’s afraid to stay down there alone.” He drew a long breath and answered: “Very well. You may show her up here.” Mrs. Griffin turned the dim lamp up to a brighter flame and hastened away to do his bidding. Oran Delaney remained standing in the center of the beautiful, lofty room, gazing expectantly at the door. In a minute he heard Mrs. Griffin’s heavy footsteps in the hall, with light, quick ones pattering beside them. The door opened quickly, and Aline entered alone. She was wrapped from head to foot in a long, dark cloak, from which her pale face gleamed like some beautiful white flower. Her dark blue eyes were black with excitement, her parted, panting lips, from which the breath came in quick little gasps, showed the haste with which she had sought his presence. She stood just inside the door, a dark, chilly little figure from which the melting snow-drops ran down in little rills upon the velvet carpet. Mr. Delaney shook off the trance of wonder that held him and went forward to meet her. “Miss Rodney, what has brought you back to this ill fated house?” he exclaimed. “I knew you would be surprised,” she answered quickly. “Mr. Delaney, I came here to ask you to marry me!” CHAPTER XLVII. If the solid earth had parted beneath Oran Delaney’s feet, he could not have been more surprised than he was at those words from Aline Rodney’s lips. He did not answer, only stared at her in hopeless bewilderment. “I came here to ask you to marry me,” she repeated, clearly, thinking he had not heard her, and no blush stained the pale cheek, the white lids did not droop over the blue eyes that gazed at him frankly and gravely. What did she mean? Had she gone mad under the stress of her great trial? He went over to her and lifted one of the white hands that hung by her side. It was cold as ice as he held it in the warm clasp of his own. “Aline, child, I do not understand you. What was it you said to me?” He saw a little shiver creep over the slender form, but she looked up at him bravely, and repeated her words: “I want you to marry me, Mr. Delaney.” “To marry you, Aline? Do you then love me, my poor child?” he asked, gazing into the clear eyes with sudden compassion. She shook her small head gravely. “No, but I want to be your wife,” she said, and the words filled him with the most utter bewilderment. There she stood, a young, beautiful, intelligent girl, usurping his sex’s prerogative with a calm, unblushing face and clear, frank eyes that regarded him with the innocent light of a child’s--the calmness of an unawakened heart.