"It is not true. You are deceiving me. You, too, whom I did think honest and true. But you are all alike, and I _was_ mad to come--no, I was not, for I'm very glad I did, if it was only to learn that you are as full of duplicity as your friend." "Am I? Well, I suppose so, Edie, if you think so," he said dismally. "But we came here to try and get out of a fog--I've got farther in. I didn't know I was such a bad one, though, and you might be fair to me and explain. Come," he cried, changing his manner, and speaking out in a frank, manly way, "this is not like you, little woman. If it's to tease me and keep me at a distance because we are alone here in the dark it is not needed, Edie, for God knows that if a man ever loved a woman, I do you." "What!" she cried; "and act toward Myra as I saw just now?" "Toward Myra?" "Yes; I know she's a hundred times nicer than I am, but I did think--I did think--O Percy, how could you kiss her hand like that?" He caught her to his breast as she broke down into a fit of sobbing, and held her there. "O Edie," he said, "you silly, blind little thing! Why, I never even thought--oh, but go on--go on," he whispered; "I am so glad--jealous of me like that! Then you do love me dearly, and you can't deny it now." Edie made little effort to escape from the close encircling arms which held her tightly, fluttering like a bird; none to deny Guest's charge. It was very lonely and dark upon that staircase, and in another moment she would have been shrinking from her companion's kisses; but, moved by the same impulse, they sprang apart, for from Stratton's room a wild, appealing cry broke the silence of the echoing stairs. CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. A WOMAN WOOS--IN VAIN. "No, no, don't come with me," whispered Guest as he sprang toward Stratton's room, but Edie paid no heed to his words, and was close behind him as he passed through first one and then the other door, drawing back, though, the next moment to close them both. A few minutes before when Myra had performed the same action she had stood gazing before her at the figure seated at the table; and the attitude of dejection, the abject misery and despair it conveyed to her mind, swept away all compunction. Every thought of her visit being unmaidenly, and opposed to her duty toward herself and those who loved her, was forgotten. Her hands were involuntarily raised toward him, and she stood there with her lips apart, her head thrown back, and her eyes half-closed and swimming with tenderness as her very being seemed to breathe out the one word--"Come!"