don't you talk?" said Dorothy, a little frightened at the tense silence.
Chapin stood still, turned her around, and looked deep in her eyes. "Because I'm too happy. I've heard of a happiness too deep for words, and now I know what it means."
"Don't," said Dorothy, weakly; "don't! I can't bear it! You promised you wouldn't!"
"Oh, no, I didn't But if I did,—if I promised it a hundred times,—I never could keep such a promise! To be with you,—alone with you! Oh, Dorothy!"
"Hush, there's Miss Abby!" and the two composed themselves just in time to smile at their hostess, who was sitting on a garden bench.
"Just the one I wanted to see!" called out Dorothy, gaily; "now you go away, Mr. Chapin, this is going to be a meeting of the Woman's Club." Chapin bowed and went on, and Dorothy sat down beside Miss Wadsworth and patted her hand.
Now Miss Abby was far from dull, and she scented trouble in the girl's manner. "Well," she said, drily, "have you quarrelled with Justin?"
"Aren't you the mind-reader!" and Dorothy looked honestly surprised. "No, we haven't exactly quarrelled, but, oh, well, Miss Abby, we're awfully different."
"Yes, you are, Dorothy, but I'm hoping your two natures will react on each other to the benefit of both."
Dorothy looked relieved. "Oh, do you think so? I'm so glad, for I've been wondering if I ought to marry him, when I'm so far from his ideal of all a woman should be."
"I wondered too, at first, but I've concluded that Justin loves you, as he never could love his 'ideal' if he had her."
"I know he loves me, but sometimes I feel so unworthy of his love. And, Miss Abby, I don't mean that I feel myself unworthy, but I'm so afraid he'll think I am."
The older woman smiled at this naive confession, but she said, "I understand, dear. But I think you ought to try a little harder to do and be as Justin wants you to. You love him, don't you?"
"I—I think so," faltered Dorothy, "but when he is so stern,—it makes me hate him!"
"That's a good sign," and Miss Abby smiled. "Better hate him than be indifferent. And I really think, my dear, that your love will grow steadily and surely, the longer you live with him, and learn what a really fine, true nature he has."
So Dorothy smoothed out her temper and patted her little soul on the back, and resolved to be awfully good to old Justin and not to flirt with other men to tease him, and especially never, never to let herself be left alone with Ernest Chapin for one single little minute.
And all the rest of the day, she devoted herself to Arnold, and was so sweet and docile and altogether angelic, that her lover concluded he had at last learned the way to manage her!
Though the house-party had been asked only for the week-end, most of the guests were easily persuaded to stay a few days longer.
Emory Gale and Campbell Crosby were the only ones who were unable to accept their host's invitation to remain longer at White Birches. Business called them, they declared, and they were obliged to leave at noon on Monday for Philadelphia.
Dorothy and Leila gave way to protestations of great grief at parting with them, and though the protestations were mere fooling, yet Crosby looked longingly into Dorothy's eyes, while, unconscious of this, Gale was pouring out his whole soul in a glance for Leila's benefit.
The girls had accompanied the departing guests in one of Justin's big motor-cars as far as the Fordham Heights Station. From here the men went to New York and later took the train for Philadelphia.
Though usually inclined to light and desultory chatter, Gale and Crosby said little to each other during the first miles of their train ride. But after they had smoked for awhile in silence, they grew a little less taciturn and a little more inclined to be sociable.
"Hang it all!" said Gale, at last, "if I had time and opportunity, I believe I could induce that sweet young thing to be all my very own!"
"What's the matter with you?" growled Crosby. "She's going to marry Justin, and you'd better keep off!"
"Great snakes, man! I don't mean Dorothy! I mean the pretty one, the lovely Leila."
"Oh, Miss Duane. Yes, she's pretty enough in her way, but she can't hold a candle to that rosy little peach of a Dorothy."
"Dorothy is a beauty, all right, but she's too indiscriminating in her favors. She'd flirt with anybody, whether she's engaged to him or not."
"I wish she'd flirt with me," said Crosby gloomily. "But never mind me. Are you really hit by the Duane girl? She's a thoroughbred, I admit, and I wish you luck, old man."
"But I never get a chance to see her. She lives 'way off in Ohio, or somewhere, and she's just here for the wedding festivities."
"Well, be expeditious. We'll go to White Birches again before the wedding, and she'll probably be there. I'll ask Cousin Abby to ask her, if you like. And then at the time of the wedding we'll all be at the Duncan house, I suppose, for a day or two, at least. I'm to be old Justin's best man. I told him I didn't want to, but I suppose I will. Oh, pshaw, man, if you've got any enterprise at all, you can find some way to woo and win a fair lady, without having her thrown at your head. I think she's ready to meet you half-way, anyhow."
Gale brightened up at this; but Crosby became more gloomy as he realized that Gale had a fair fighting chance, while he had none.
It was about five o'clock when they reached the station in Philadelphia.
"What are you doing to-night?" asked Gale, as they parted.
"Dunno. Depends mostly on what letters and stuff I find waiting for me. We ought to get together and talk over that Herrmann case."
"Yes; where's that data I gave you to look over?"
"It's in my duffle, somewhere. I'll hunt it out when I get to the hotel."
"All right; and you'd better drop in at the club to-night. I'm going to dine there, and then I'll tell you if I've had any word from Herrmann. There's lots of detail to be attended to in that case."
"I'll call you up and let you know what I can do, later. S'long, old man."
They parted, and Crosby went directly to the hotel where he made his home. Gale had rooms in a bachelor apartment-house, but Crosby declared that a big hotel was the only place where a man could get decent service and comfortable surroundings.
He nodded affably to the desk clerk, took his mail, and went directly to an elevator and up to his rooms on the third floor. He usually went up in the elevator, though, coming down, he oftener used the stairs. However, as his particular elevator-boy did not suffer financially from this state of things, no complaint was made.
Being expeditious by nature, and inherently opposed to what is known as "lost motion," he had run through his letters and was ready for his dinner at seven o'clock. As nothing in his mail offered him any more attractive occupation for the evening, he thought of going to the club to see Gale, and he telephoned him to this effect before going on to the dining-room. Then, seated alone at his usual table, he opened the evening paper and was soon lost in its contents.
A little before eight o'clock, he was called to the telephone, and answered "Hello" to Gale's greeting.
"Old chap," Gale said, "don't come over here to-night, unless you choose. I've promised to make up a rubber with some fellows, and I'm going home early."
"O. K." returned Crosby; "I was half inclined to go to the Orchestra Concert, and I believe I will. Haggensdorfer is on the programme, and I simply can't stay away. Want to drop in there, later?"
"No, I believe not. I'll play around here for awhile and slide home early. See that you get around to the office in some decent time to-morrow morning, and bring that memo."
"All right; I will. Good-by."
"Good-by;" and Gale hung up the receiver, rather