"Now this is more cheerful, fair lady, is it not?" he cried, in a pleasant voice. "And pray tell me what brought you to my lonely dwelling." "I had always wanted to see your tower, Graham; and this morning they all went to San Francisco for the day, and I thought I would ride over and look at it from the outside. I found old John airing the room, and accepted his invitation to rest here for half an hour before riding home. He came up just now to tell me that it was going to rain, but as he thought it would be only a shower he had put my horse under shelter. This is how I came here; and now tell me what brought you so unexpectedly from town." "I cannot tell, white one. Your will, perhaps." "Nay, friend, that has never swayed thee one hair’s-breadth from thine appointed course." He shook his head sadly, and looked out of the window. She did not know--it was better for her perhaps that she never should know--how great an influence she had wielded over his life. She did not know that for her, faith and youth had bloomed in his heart when he had thought them dead. Her untruth was killing them, and their death-agony had shaken and worn him cruelly. She thought him hard and relentless. It might be easier for her to dull the pain in her heart, with this consciousness of injury received. He would never tell her of the irreparable wrong she had done him. If he was not forgiving he was magnanimous. No word of reproach should pass his lips. Outside the rain was pouring down, but less steadily; the patter of the drops sounded more and more lightly on the window-panes. The shower would not long continue. Graham took note of the clearing sky, and sighed heavily. With all her faults he loved her; the tower would be lonelier than ever when she had flitted from it like a sprite of the rain-storm. The great trees outside lifted up their branches with a mighty wailing, echoing his sigh; and Millicent, as if conscious that love was pleading against pride in that strong heart which had never learned the lesson of forgiveness, turned her white, appealing face towards him. The man’s being had been swept that day with fiery impulses from the first moment of consciousness. Passionate love, pity, scorn, and anger had in turn written their impress on his mobile face. He came close to her side, and taking both her hands in his, knelt at her side: