Putting all these thoughts behind her with a passing wonder why they had come like ghosts from a dead past to disturb her present peace, she rang for her maid and got ready for her shopping tour. An hour later she knew why those subtle memories had overwhelmed her this morning. It was the influence of telepathy. Turning over some rare silks at the Arcade, her heart leaped, and her blood turned cold in her veins at the sound of a familiar voice: “Leola Mead, am I dreaming, or is it really you? What a charming surprise! Why, only this morning I was thinking of you, wondering where you were; and to find you here so soon, it’s like a dream!” “My foe undreamed of by my side Stood suddenly like fate-- To those who love, the world is wide, But not to those who hate!” Leola felt a small, gloved hand pressing hers very hard, looked into bluebell eyes under flaxen waves of hair, and turned cold with dislike and repulsion, dreading every moment to see over the blonde’s shoulder her husband’s face, handsome and winning, with the laughing blue eyes that had smiled her heart away. With a strong effort she pulled herself together, calling her passionate pride to her aid. They should not see her wince; she would show them she had forgotten him. She said, coldly: “So it is you, Jessie Stirling? How long have you been over?” “Oh, since early spring shopping for my trousseau, you know,” twittered Jessie, gayly. “Then you are not married yet?” Leola cried, eagerly. “No; but I shall be soon--in late July. Chester was ill so long, you know,” she twittered on; then, at the startled look in Leola’s dark eyes, “Oh, I forgot you went away so abruptly that night before everything happened--the explosion and all! Tell me, haven’t you ever heard from home? from any of them? Not a word, you say? How very strange! Leola, is your carriage waiting? Yes? Then I will go for a drive with you, and tell you everything. We can come back for our shopping later”--dragging her out. CHAPTER XVIII. “IF HATE COULD KILL.” The two fair young girls stepped into the elegant equipage, and as it rolled down the glittering boulevard in the glorious sunshine, they were the cynosure of all eyes. Jessie Stirling began excitedly: “And so you have never heard a word from West Virginia since the night you left so suddenly! Then I have much to tell you. But first, have you not heard from Chester Olyphant in all this time?” There was an anxious tone in her voice, but Leola did not heed it, she answered so spiritedly: “That is a strange question, Jessie. I have not heard, or ever wished to hear, from him.” Jessie’s little tinkling laugh rang out in shallow ripples on the air, as she exclaimed: “Still angry! But, poor dear, I do not blame you. It was hard for me to forgive him for trifling with your tender heart. It was his illness and suffering that melted my heart.”