the probability was that after two weeks more the only concern he could have in connection with her would be to try to forget her; at least to forget her as all except a friend. Then he plunged into profound study as to how he could find out whether she loved him-no, not that, but whether there was a possibility of his winning her love in the course of time. After mature deliberation and the successive consideration and rejection of several plans of campaign, he at last formulated one that he thought might accomplish his purpose, without startling the object of his solicitude so as to destroy prematurely all chance for ultimate success. He would delay the momentous question for a few weeks, in order to make the transition from friendly feeling to love easy and gradual for her. But meantime he would gently convey to her the information that he had come to feel something more than friendly regard for her; and he would endeavor to get from her some intimation as to whether there was any hope for him in the future.

Three times they met after Paul had determined on his course, and each time, try as he would, he could discover no way to introduce the subject nearest his heart. Thalia talked on as complacently and unsentimentally as ever, apparently utterly oblivious of the love that was consuming him.

"What is the matter, Mr. Granger?" she said to him abruptly on one of these occasions, with a little laugh. “You have suddenly grown as absent-minded as Professor Ridgely. If there is anything on your mind that you can share with me, may be friendly woman's wit can help you out of the tangle."

Of course he couldn't talk love to a woman who had just displayed such candid, unconscious friendship as that. To do so would doubtless shock and mortify her beyond measure, and perhaps forfeit all advantage he might already have gained in her estimation. Clearly he must wait and show some consideration for her feelings in broaching the subject. So he made a broken and confused reply to her question, and waited. Finally came what they both foresaw would be their last long walk together, on the Sunday afternoon before graduation day. Paul started out desperately determined to bring matters to an issue before he left her. Without any express agreement on their part, their footsteps turned as though unguided to the Lovers' Walk.

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For some minutes they strolled along in happy silence, drinking in the beauties of the shady glen and the delight of each other's presence.

"I have been congratulating myself, Miss Dorn," said Paul at length in a tone such as had never before used in addressing her, "that we did not meet six months earlier."

"Indeed!" replied Thalia, elevating her brows in mock surprise. "That is a remarkable declaration, Mr. Granger. I have been regretting that we did not meet a year or two earlier."

Paul's heart sank within him. If she had loved him she could never have answered him in that fashion. But he must go on now and take his chances.

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Because if we had," he continued, as though she had not spoken, "I could not have understood or appreciated you, and I am afraid you would not have found me very companionable."

They had stopped and were standing face to face, so close that their garments almost touched, in an angle of jutting and overhanging rocks that hid them from outside view. Thalia had not looked at Paul during his last remark. Now she turned her eyes to his for an instant, and then they dropped beneath the intensity of his gaze, while a deep flush overspread her face and neck. That blush inspired the lover with new hope.

May I write to you after you go home?" he said. "And may I visit you after a month or two?"

Thalia had regained her composure.

"I thought you were going West?" she said.

"I have changed my plans," he replied. "My old friend Dr. Gardner, of whom I have told you, has persuaded me to stay East, and has got me a place on a newspaper in I shall go there after a couple of months to begin.

work." Did he catch a gleam of satisfaction in Thalia's eyes at this announcement? He could not be quite sure.

"Certainly, Mr. Granger, you may write to me," she said, "I did not suppose we were to lose sight of each other after three days more. And, though you haven't asked it, I'll volunteer to answer your letters.'

It was a half-grave smile with which Paul answered hers. 66 Of course; you knew that was included," he said.

"And as to visiting me," she continued, "you surely have

not forgotten that I have invited you already. I shall be glad to have you come."

She held out her hand to him. He took it-as an earnest of the welcome she would give him; and he gently pressed the plump hand in his own, while its owner stood with downcast eyes, but making no effort to withdraw the imprisoned ' hand. Paul was satisfied. She did not repulse him, and she was too honest to deceive him. There was room for hope at least. But he would not yet risk the vital question.

"Miss Dorn," he said, still holding her hand, "it is not long that we have known each other, and I realize that it is too soon for me to expect you to regard me other than as a friend; yet, may I not hope, with a possibility that your regard may ripen into a warmer feeling? I believe I know my own heart, and that it has gone into your keeping beyond power of mine to recall it; nor would I recall it, if I can win yours in return."

He paused. He thought he felt the hand tremble a little -he was holding it in both his now. And did her bosom not rise as though she were about to speak? Should he ask the question that trembled on his lips? He longed to-but she was not a girl to yield herself except with the sanction of her calmest, coolest judgment. He would not try to force her to a decision at this time.

"Yet it will do neither of us any harm," he continued, to wait a few weeks and prove our hearts by the test of separation. Do you not think so?"

Then she lifted her eyes, full of candor and sincerity, her very heart shining out through them.

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Yes, Mr. Granger," she said simply.

For one sweet, thrilling moment they looked into each other's eyes. Then, gently, Thalia drew back and away from him. He raised her hand to his lips; and then, side by side, as many times before-as never before-they walked on. They understood. The bond was established; each had confessed it; yet each had left the other free to withdraw from it if in prolonged separation it were found other than it now seemed.

They talked as never before-different tones, different thoughts; no longer individual thoughts, but mutual thoughts. They talked of love, of marriage and its relations, with a freedom born of their trust in each other, their longing to be understood by each other. There were

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mutual confessions of what each thought the other should know before the bond were sealed-confessions that began in trembling, lest they chill and quench the new-born flame, but grew ever fuller and freer, until each heart was laid on the altar of their love. And then it flashed upon them that even their weaknesses and the dark places that lay in the memory of either had now become pillars of strength to the structure they were building-pillars about which the cords of mutual charity and forgiveness, crossing and recrossing from heart to heart, should twine so firmly that no shock or strain of after life could sever them. And O the bliss of mutual absolution at young Love's confessional

dearer thou for faults Lived over."

Once again, at her own door, in the gathering twilight, he bore her hand to his lips. Once again their eyes spoke the speech before which words stand dumb.

CHAPTER 35

A MATCH NOT MADE IN HEAVEN

FIVE days later Paul again left the halls of learning, but with feelings far different from those with which he had reached the end of his academic course five years before. He now felt that he had been long enough at the work of preparation. Well for him, he had never come to look upon such study as he had been engaged in as an end, but a means only. He was now eager to get out and put to the test what he had learned, and to see whether he could do any better for his long course of study than could the young men who went to work without such preparation. But he could not lie idle for two months; and so, to fill in the gap, he turned again to farm work. His father had visited him at the University at commencement time, and now father and son hired out to work for the same farmer, Joshua to remain till November, when he would return to Deacon Willett's..

On a Monday about the middle of August, Paul received a note from Mr. Gray. It read:

"A place on the Journal will be open to you next Monday. Answer."

Paul replied by the next mail that he would be on hand. He also wrote to Thalia that he would be with her on the following Thursday and stay till Saturday.

Notwithstanding his near entry into the ranks of active journalism, the power and responsibility of the press had but small place in his thoughts during the next three days. But a certain young woman had a large place. Doubts and forebodings again seized upon him. He took the three letters that he had received from Thalia, in answer to five that he had written, and read them over, carefully, critically. Not a syllable of sentiment in them, not a scrap of comfort or hope for an anxious lover! They were busy letters, evidently written in haste, and without any care to make the sentences smooth or the handwriting artistic. There was no effort to impress him. They were simply frank, friendly letters. What did it mean? Was Thalia trying to give him to understand that she cared nothing for him, that separation had opened her eyes and quenched the love that she had as good as spoken on that Sunday afternoon?

Wednesday's mail brought a note from her. She would meet him at the railway station. That was all.

But when he met her on Thursday afternoon, when he entered the carriage with her alone for the four-mile drive to her home, and when, after they had passed the boundary of probable observation, he looked into her eyes, he found them beaming with the same responsive love that had lighted them on that Sunday afternoon when he stood with her beneath the rocky ledge that sheltered the Lovers' Walk. And he no longer doubted.

"Things at home have not taken just the shape I hoped for at this time," said Thalia presently. "Besides the regular members of the family you will encounter thrashers. After some thinking, however, I believe I have hit upon a plan that will prove as agreeable to us as though things had gone more to my liking. How will a little picnic to-morrow suit you?"

She looked at him inquiringly. He did not reply at once, and his expression did not betoken much pleasure at the suggestion.

"Just for us two," continued Thalia, divining his thoughts, and flushing a little.