And there was usually a girl--always the loveliest of the party--confidentially pointed out to Jane, by the rest, as a certainty, if only Dal had had another twenty-four hours of her society.

But the girl herself would appear quite heart-whole, only very full of an evidently delightful friendship, expressing all Dal's ideas on art and colour, as her own, and confidently happy in an assured sense of her own loveliness and charm and power to please.

Never did he leave behind him traces which the woman who loved him regretted to find.

But he was always gone--irrevocably gone.

Garth Dalmain was not the sort of man to wait on the door-mat of a woman's indecision.
Neither did this Jack of hers break his crown.