He read in her perusal of that letter what no other dreamed of, not even the girl herself; and it was certitude of tragic and brief life for her if she could not live for Wilson Moore.

Those moments of watching her were unutterably precious to Wade.

He saw how some divine guidance had directed his footsteps to this home.

How many years had it taken him to get there! Columbine read and read and reread--a girl with her first love-letter.

And for Wade, with his keen eyes that seemed to see the senses and the soul, there shone something infinite through her rapture.
Never until that unguarded moment had he divined her innocence, nor had any conception been given him of the exquisite torture of her maiden fears or the havoc of love fighting for itself.