Besides, he had told her frankly that he would go to Cuba after their marriage. Perhaps that fact had turned the balance in his favor and made her accept his offer. “Here we are!” he said, cheerfully, as the cab stopped before a little white cottage inclosed in a grassy plot. “It is eleven o’clock, yet I see a light in the parlor window. They are waiting up for me, dear mother and little Mae.” He handed her out, drew her hand through his arm with a fond, protecting air, and they walked up the narrow graveled path together, the young man saying, encouragingly: “It will be a great surprise to them, my bringing home a bride to-night; but they will love you for my sake!” Slipping his latch-key into the door, he opened it, and led her into a small unlighted hall. At the sound of their footsteps the parlor door opened quickly, and in the sudden light that streamed out, Viola saw a fair young girl standing smiling on the threshold--a petite blonde, lovely as a doll, with a glad light of welcome shining in her deep azure eyes. “Rolfe!” she cried, joyously, before she perceived Viola. But the next moment a startled look came over her face, and crying, “Oh!” in a voice of dismay, she darted back to a sofa where a handsome, dark-eyed woman lay resting with the weariness of an invalid. To this lady Rolfe Maxwell led his pale bride, saying, smilingly: “Mother, don’t get excited, please, but I have a great surprise for you and Mae. I was quietly married at Doctor Meade’s tonight, and this is my bride, Viola!” There was a moment’s painful, embarrassing pause, and no wonder, because the shock of surprise had certainly been great, but it was broken by a startling incident. “Married! Married! Oh, Heaven!” almost shrieked Mae Sweetland, despairingly, as she threw up her arms in the air, then sank unconscious to the floor. CHAPTER XXII. “GO BACK TO YOUR HAUGHTY BRIDE.” “And will she love thee as well as I? Will she do for thee what I have done? See all the pomps of the world pass by, And look only for thee--beloved one? “Will she feel when another pronounces thy name All the thrilling sensations that I have done? Pride when they praise thee, regret when they blame, And tenderness always--beloved one? “Will she watch when a cloud passes over thy brow And strive to chase it--as I have done? Forgetting all but the thought that now It is hers to console thee--beloved one?” Mrs. Maxwell raised herself on her elbow and looked at the fallen girl with her lovely face and closed eyes upturned to the light. In her alarm she did not heed Viola’s presence. “Oh, Rolfe, what have you done?” she groaned, wildly. “You have broken dear little Mae’s heart!” “Mother!” in bewilderment.