“I thank you, but Miss Winton has taken the liberty to give me one. I do not care for any more!” he replied, with freezing indifference that cut her to the heart. “Now I am quite sure that he loves Ada! He prefers her flowers to mine! Oh, I wish she had not come to be my cruel rival in his heart!” From his careless tone and proud air she could never have dreamed that he was thinking: “What a falsehood I told her, poor little Eva! Ah, if she could know how I have treasured all the sweet flowers she used to give me, and for which she let me thank her by taking her in my arms and kissing the sweet red lips that speak to me so coldly now!” They stood looking at each other in momentary silence, with hungry eyes and hearts that yearned to each other across the gulf they might not bridge--the swift-running stream of a cousin’s blood. And yet it is possible, that, if they had mutually guessed the passion of each other’s heart, they might have overleaped all barriers and sprung into each other’s arms, so mighty and resistless is the power of love! But she thought him fickle and resentful; he believed her cold and unforgiving. So that even as they gazed at each other the rushing stream grew wider, forcing them apart. While she struggled for calmness he smiled coldly and said: “I am very glad that you are recovered from your slight injury, but do not trouble yourself to go out too soon to show Miss Winton the sights of the city. I shall have ample leisure to escort her around, and shall find the greatest pleasure in doing so,” and, with a parting bow that chilled her with its coldness, he took an abrupt leave. He could not have borne the pain of this meeting a moment longer--not one; but she misunderstood him, as he intended. His pride and his jealousy of Hamilton were up in arms. She should not know he cared. He hurried out with Ada, and poor, humiliated Eva stood there drooping among the flowers like a crushed lily. CHAPTER XXXI. “WE SHALL MEET AGAIN!” Doctor Ludington, hurrying away from Fifth Avenue, would not take a cab to the hospital. He preferred to walk the long distance in the nipping cold of the December night, and thus cool the fever of unrest burning in his veins. He felt a passionate anger against Eva for her seeming coldness and indifference, for so well had the poor girl worn her mask of pride that it appeared to him quite genuine. He was full of angry resentment at what seemed to him the cruelest inconstancy and forgetfulness. How cool and calm she had been, while he was sure that he had betrayed his own heart by his very endeavors to hide it. He wondered how she could have transferred her love so quickly from him to the handsome young New Yorker that rumor assigned as her betrothed. He resolved angrily that she should never know how she had wounded him by her heartlessness. She should not think he was wearing the willow for her sake.