Long before this Linda had said good-night to her departing relative, but the words which haunted her before she dropped asleep were not his unemotional and polite phrases, but the words spoken softly, caressingly yet with subdued fire: "There is nothing I would not do to make you happy, Linda Talbot." Was there a confession? Dared she understand it so? CHAPTER XV A DISTINCT SENSATION For two days the storm continued, increasing to a gale which whipped the waters of the placid river to a yellow angry flood, and beat the few remaining leaves from their clasp on the trees. During this time Linda and Miss Ri kept indoors as closely as they could, their chief visitor being Mr. Jeffreys. Miss Parthy, to be sure, paddled up the walk to the back door in all the rain, and Bertie Bryan's rosy face peeped in at them one afternoon, but Berkley did not come near, and no one guessed his reason for staying away. How great a struggle had been going on in the young man's mind none associated with him imagined. Since that night when it was disclosed to him through the papers which Mr. Jeffreys had left in his care, that there was a possibility of Linda's losing her chance to inherit Talbot's Angles, he had fought his giants; one his love for the girl, the other the temptation to withhold the more important papers. He need not destroy them; he would only set them aside, and tell Jeffreys there was not sufficient evidence to warrant a legal claim. At last, however, when he must really face the issue, he laughed at such an idea, and realized that there was but one thing for him to do. He would give up Linda to his rival. Why should Jeffreys not possess the property as well as Grace? So, perhaps, would Linda be given her dearest wish. That day at the postoffice it had been revealed to him what his feeling for the girl really meant, and from that moment his love had grown stronger, deeper, fuller. On that rainy night he had nearly spoken of his feeling for her. Had she spoken less lightly he might have done so, even though at that time his cursory glance at the papers had given him some belief in the justice of Jeffreys' claim. But he had recognized that the girl herself was still heart free, and therefore, though there might be a chance for him he must keep away, must make excuses not to see her. He must assume a great air of one too absorbed in business to spare time for visiting his friends. He could manage all that. But first he must pave the way. He would go and tell them all that to Jeffreys would probably fall the old homestead, and he would say: "Better into the hands of an honest and honorable man, the descendant of the old stock, than to Grace Talbot." He would praise this future owner, and would plant the seeds which should blossom into regard and affection. Jeffreys was a good fellow, a little stiff, maybe, but a man of strict morality and--the fight was bitter--he would make her a good husband.