Stella’s brow clouded, and her eyes, wide and cold, assumed a sinister half-mad expression. “You have a message from Mr. Graham?” “How did you guess it?” “He has tried every other possible way. I wondered if he would stoop to this.” “Stoop!--what do you mean?” “To use you for such a purpose.” “And why not?” “You ask that of me?” The great brown eyes pierced Susie’s soul. “Certainly.” “Then it’s all right,” she said with a light laugh. “You must receive his message,” Susie said. “You’ve won the heart of the noblest man I have ever known--a great, beautiful, measureless love. Don’t turn away from it--you may not know its like again.” The full lips smiled curiously. “I’ve brought you a letter from him--you must read it.” Susie pressed the letter into Stella’s hand and turned away to the window. She heard the rattle of the paper as it was opened and refolded, and walked back to the bedside. Before she could ask Stella’s answer, her eye rested on a letter in Ackerman’s handwriting, lying open on the white covering. She started violently but managed to suppress an exclamation. Only that morning she had received herself a letter from the young Northerner declaring his love in simple, honest fashion. She couldn’t believe her eyes at first, but a second look convinced her of its reality. What puzzled her still more was to observe beside this letter a sheet of paper on which was drawn the diagram of the hall with the minute accuracy of an architect’s plan, with Ackerman’s notes interlining it. “What shall I say?” she stammered in confusion. Stella looked at her with a momentary start, smiled and answered: “Tell Mr. Graham I have received and read his letter. I’ll think it over this evening and reply to-morrow.” “Then I’ll go,” said Susie, taking her hand. “I’m so glad I saw you.” As she turned through the door her eye again was drawn irresistibly to Ackerman’s letter. She returned to John Graham’s office stunned by this puzzling discovery. John was bitterly disappointed in the message she brought. Her long stay had raised in him the highest hope. His own surrender had been so complete and generous, that he could not conceive it possible that she would debate in cold blood for twenty-four hours the question of her answer. It seemed heartless and utterly cruel. He rebelled in fierce futile protest. He did not try to conceal the bitterness of his disappointment from Susie, and was too selfishly occupied with his own grief to note the constraint in her manner as she hurried home from his office, even before he had found words in which to thank her for the delicate service she had rendered him. He sent for Alfred and got word to Aunt Julie Ann that he wished to see her at her cottage after supper. He knew that Alfred had taken advantage of Isaac’s long absence to renew his calls on his former love. When he arrived at nine o’clock Aunt Julie Ann had placed a pot of coffee and a plate of tea-cakes on a little table for him.