"I see, and I shall not ask questions, either," she said, calmly. "I realize, too, that you are speaking to me in confidence. I shall tell no one, but I am going to pray for you. I believe it helps. It seems to have helped me many, many times." "No, no, you must not do that," he said, quickly, almost in alarm. "I am not good enough for that." "But I can't help it. Some philosopher has said that every desire is a prayer, and in that case I shall be praying constantly till your trouble is over." It was as if she understood, and appreciated the momentary check he had put upon his passion. They were quite alone. His face was close to hers; it was full of shadowy yearning, and yet he made no effort to repeat the blissful caresses of the night before. Presently he heard her sigh again. "What is it?" he asked, uneasily. She was silent for a moment, then she asked: "Do you believe in premonitions?" "I don't think I do," he said, wondering what was forthcoming. "Why do you ask?" "Because I do to some extent," she said, slowly, a reminiscent expression in her eyes, "and something seems to tell me that you and I are in danger of being parted. I have felt forewarnings often. Once I actually knew my father was in trouble when he was several miles from me, and there was no hint of the matter from any external source." "Strange," he said. "Was it something serious?" "His life was in danger," Dolly said, "and he was on the point of committing a crime which would have ruined us all. It was this way. A rough mountaineer had become angry with me for keeping his disobedient child in after school was out. He was drinking, and he made a disrespectful remark at the store about me which reached my father's ears. My father has an awful temper which simply cannot be controlled, and, taking his revolver, he went to find the man. None of us at home knew what he intended to do, but exactly at the hour in which he met the man, fought with him, and shot him almost fatally, I felt that something was wrong, I was in the schoolroom trying to get my mind on my work, but I could not do it. I could think of nothing but my father and some crisis which he seemed to be going through. So I was not surprised later to learn of his trouble." "I did not know your father had such a hot temper," Mostyn said. "He looks like a man who is not easily upset." "It is all beneath the surface," Dolly answered. "You have no idea how careful I have to be. He seldom is willing for the young men about here to visit me at all. That is his worst fault." Dolly rose. She put her hand lightly on Mostyn's. "I must go to my room now," she said. "I shall see you before you leave. I am going to do my best to subdue the premonition about you and me. It is so strong that it depresses me--fairly takes my breath away. It is exactly as if we are not going to meet again, or something just as sad."