TWO days passed without a word of hope for John. On the third morning after his dismissal by Stella he sat pale and listless at breakfast, scarcely tasting his food, while Susie watched his drawn face with keen sympathetic eyes. An hour later she entered his office. “You promised to let me help you,” she said quietly. “I have come.” He looked at her a moment and wondered why he had never before seen her striking beauty. A tall figure with exquisite sylph like lines, a serene and perfectly moulded face with straight, thoughtful brows shadowing the tenderest gray-blue eyes, and a crown of luxuriant auburn blonde hair. He caught at once the sincere sympathy of her mood, as he pressed her hand. “I never saw you so beautiful, Miss Susie, or your face so sweet and restful.” She blushed and looked out the window. “I can’t tell you how I thank you for coming. I think we must have been brother and sister in some other world before this.” The corners of the girl’s lips twitched and she turned her tender eyes full on John’s. “You are in love with Stella?” “Yes.” “And she has rejected you?” “No, we have quarrelled and she refuses to see me or read my letters.” “She loves you?” “I’ve hoped so, I don’t know. She lets me feel it without words.” “We are friends, what can I do?” “See her and beg her for God’s sake to let me call, at least to read my letters. Will you go to-day?” “Immediately.” “Thank you,” he cried, again tenderly pressing her hand. “You must have loved too, Miss Susie.” “Perhaps I have,” was the soft reply. “Write your message and I’ll take it.” John seated himself and hastily wrote: _My dear Stella:_ _From the bottom of a heart crushed with anguish I ask your pardon for my lack of faith. Your pride was right. Give me a chance and I will show you what the trust of perfect love means for me. I await from you the words of life or death._ _John Graham_. Susie promised to return at once with her answer. She knocked at the door of the old Graham house with a strange conflict raging in her own breast. She hoped to succeed for the sake of the aching heart of the man she had left, and yet mingled with the fear of failure was the half-mad wish that Stella might reject his plea. Aunt Julie Ann’s face was troubled as she greeted Susie. “Tell Miss Stella, that I’m very sorry to learn of her illness and I trust she can see me a moment.” “Yassum, I tell her--but I’se feard she ain’t well enough.” Aunt Julie Ann returned immediately, smiling. “She say come right up to her room, Miss Susie.” Susie was shocked to note the change-in the beautiful young face lying still and pale against the white pillow. “I’m sorry to find you so ill!” “Yes, I suppose I have nerves,” she said, smiling wanly. “I didn’t know it before. I think some of them must have snapped--but I’m better now. I’ll get up this afternoon.” “I’ve something that will help you, if you will take it.”