Then he remembered how Dora would weep if he were in trouble, and clasp her arms round his neck.
"We shall still be friends, Miss Charteris ?" he said, pleadingly.
"Whatever comes you will not give me up ?" "I will be your friend while I live," said Valentine, holding out her white hand, and her voice never faltered.

"You have trusted me--I shall never forget that.

I am your friend, and Dora's also." The words came so prettily from her lips that Ronald smiled.
"Dora would be quite alarmed at you," he said; "she is so timid and shy." Then he told Valentine of Dora's pretty, artless ways, of her love for all things beautiful in nature, always returning to one theme--her great love for him.

He little dreamed that the calm, stately beauty listened as one on the rack--that while he was talking of Dora she was trying to realize the cold, dreary blank that had suddenly fallen over her life, trying to think what the future would be passed without him, owning to herself that for this rash, chivalrous marriage, for his generous love, she admired him more than ever.
The hand that played carelessly among the wild flowers had ceased to tremble, the proud lips had regained their color, and then Valentine arose, as she was going out with Lady Earle after lunch.
A feeling of something like blank despair seized Valentine when she thought of what she must say to her other.

As she remembered their few words the previous evening, her face flushed hotly.
"I can never thank you enough for your kind patience," said Ronald, as they walked back through the shady park and the bright flower gardens.
Valentine smiled and raised her fact to the quiet summer sky, thinking of the hope that had been hers a few short hours before.
"You will go at once and see your father, will you not ?" she said to Ronald, as they parted.
"I am going now," he replied; but at that very moment Lady Earle came up to him.
"Ronald," she said, "come into my boudoir.