But the conventional smile that played over his handsome face as he talked to the gifted woman before him deceived Kathleen. It seemed to her that he was well and happy, that he had forgotten that she ever lived--the girl he had pretended to love so dearly. "I have the plot of a new story upstairs in my study, and I believe it is just the thing you want, Mr. Chainey," said Mrs. Stone, vivaciously. She rose, and added: "I will go and get it, but if I am some little time away, please go into the library, and amuse yourself with a book. I must confess that I am very careless, and often misplace my manuscripts." Mrs. Stone vanished through the door, and Ralph Chainey, who was so unhappy that he dreaded nothing so much as his own sad thoughts, immediately turned toward the library. Kathleen gave a gasp of surprise and terror, and turned to fly. She was too late. Even as her hand fell from the curtain Ralph Chainey swept it aside and entered. The strangely parted lovers were face to face. For a moment the young man was only conscious that Mrs. Stone's library was occupied by a beautiful young girl. But the moan that burst uncontrollably from Kathleen's white lips made him glance more closely at the young girl's face, and then he saw that it was his missing love. A cry of joyful astonishment broke from him, and he sprung forward, crying, eagerly: "Kathleen, my darling!" His arms closed about her; he pressed her closely to his throbbing breast. Kathleen's eyes closed, and her golden head sunk heavily on her lover's breast. She had almost fainted with the shock of seeing him so suddenly, combined with the exquisite rapture and pain of his fond embrace. But even while he showered kisses on her fair face and closed eyes, memory and reason began to assert themselves. She struggled faintly in his clasp, and he perceived that she was trying to free herself. Instantly he opened his arms and allowed her to go free, for Ralph Chainey was one of the proudest of men, and would not force his caresses on any one. But he said eagerly, although with a slight tone of reproach in his voice: "Kathleen, my dearest, how came you here, and why was it that I found you gone that night when I returned to the station?" The color flushed hotly into her pale face, but she stood apart, looking at him with burning eyes, and not uttering one word. "Kathleen, why do you look at me so strangely?" exclaimed her lover, in reproachful wonder. "Has your heart changed toward me? Did you repent your promise to marry me that night, and run away, or did your enemies find you, as you feared they would? Tell me the truth, my darling." But still she did not speak. In truth, she could not. There was a hysteric constriction in her throat that held it tight as with iron bands. She gazed with unwilling fascination into the large, pleading, brown eyes of her lover, her young heart throbbing wildly in her breast.