“Yes, I received your note. Of course I excused you, though I missed you very much!” Viola cried, with her most sweetly reproachful air. Then she gave a slight start, and added: “Dearest, how pale you are! What is wrong? Are you ill?” Professor Desha did indeed look pale and heavy-eyed, and his voice sounded strange as he answered: “I am sorry you noticed it; but--I am not feeling very well. I had a bad night; was restless, and scarcely slept at all.” His grave blue eyes searched her face closely, plaintively, as if some jealous doubt haunted his mind; but the perfect tenderness and joy of her manner were enough to dissipate any fears, and presently she charmed him from the gray mood in which he had entered her presence. Her gayety cost her an effort, too, for she was secretly frightened when she saw what a shadow lurked in his grave blue eyes. She was a coward at heart, always dreading for him to find out something she feared for him to know. Had she guessed what was in his thoughts, as he sat so quietly by her side, she must have fallen down fainting at his feet in her remorse and shame. Ruby Wellford had played a clever card in her longing to defeat Viola, and a thorn was planted in his manly heart that would ache there many a day. But he had not showed his cousin the pain he had felt, he had simply answered: “I am sorry for the poor young man. I dare say that Viola was more thoughtless than wilfully wicked. She is so young, you know, and has missed a mother’s care.” “Philip, you do not mean that you will go on dangling after the girl after hearing this--this appalling story!” she cried, almost indignantly. Then he took her hand and said, very gently and kindly: “Ruby, you know I appreciate your kindness, and am sorry Viola has flirted so recklessly, but--but she will never break my heart.” “But, Phil, every one is saying that you are her latest victim.” “Her latest and her last,” he replied, significantly; and as she cried out that she did not understand, he added: “You have told me a secret, and I will return your confidence. I promised Viola to keep it till tomorrow, but I do not think she would care if I told you now--under the circumstances.” “What is your secret?” she cried eagerly, and he answered, proudly: “Only this: you will receive our wedding-cards tomorrow.” “Yours--and Viola’s! Do you mean it really, Phil?” she demanded, in astonishment. “Yes, it is true. We have been engaged ever since January, but Viola wished to keep it secret to spring a great sensation on her friends.” “She will certainly succeed, for no one ever dreamed she had a heart!” exclaimed the lady; then noticing how very pale he had grown, she added, repentantly: “Dear Phil, forgive me for my blundering! If I had dreamed how matters really stood, I would rather have bitten off the extreme end of my tongue than have tattled to you about young Merrington.”