Lord Carthew hardly knew how to explain away his friend’s harsh words. Already he had been greatly surprised by Hilary’s antagonistic attitude toward. Sir Philip’s lovely daughter, although, perhaps, in his secret heart he was not ill-pleased thereby. Hilary had neither the intention nor the desire to get married, and he was far too handsome to be regarded without alarm as a rival. It was, therefore, by no means a misfortune that he should have taken so strong a dislike against Stella, although Lord Carthew was too loyal not to praise his friend to her in his absence. That evening was one of the most delightful he had ever experienced. Every moment he fell deeper in love with this beautiful girl, who seemed to realize the ideal of perfect womanhood which he had dreamed of since he had arrived at man’s estate. Her manner to him was frank and friendly, and she so evidently liked his society that he went to bed feeling both hopeful and elated. Yet when the subject of his thoughts retired to her own room, it is to be feared that Lord Carthew’s image by no means occupied her mind. The windows of her bedroom, large, gloomy, and scantily furnished like the rest of the house, were open, and a flood of moonlight poured into the room. Stella walked toward it, and stood within its silver radiance, with delicate face upturned toward the stars. “He must have disliked me very much to speak like that,” she murmured, as she slowly began to unfasten her gown, without lighting the candles on her dressing-table. “Will he ever forgive me, I wonder? I could ask his pardon better if he were not what he is; if he and that kind Mr. Pritchard could only change places!” A sudden thought struck her, and caused her to quickly fasten her dress again. Crossing the room she opened her bedroom door and listened. There was no sound in the wide corridor, in which Lady Cranstoun’s rooms as well as her daughter’s were situated. At the other end was the guest-chamber assigned to the wounded man, while Dr. Graham and Lord Carthew occupied rooms in another part of the house. After a moment’s hesitation Stella ran lightly to the room occupied by Hilary and tapped at the door, which was at once opened, as she expected, by Margaret. “How is he?” Stella whispered. “He’s wandering, miss. Dr. Graham and the other young gentleman came to see him, and he seemed asleep then, though the doctor didn’t quite like the looks of him. But now he seems delirious, and if he gets worse I must rouse the doctor. You needn’t fear to look in; he won’t recognize you.” Hilary’s face was flushed, and his brown eyes glittered unnaturally as he muttered under his breath an unintelligible string of words and tossed his head from side to side on the pillow. Tears started to Stella’s eyes as she watched him. “Margaret,” she said suddenly, “shall I try to soothe him with my touch on his forehead? I always charm away mamma’s headaches.” Margaret shook her head doubtfully.