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"I Wentworth blustered, wringing the man's hand, which, by-the-way, he noticed had

"How you talk!-what's come to you?" not its usual grasp.

"I'm ill, Wentworth." "You!"

"It's a foolish matter, but a fact." Stein moved his head sharply within the gloom of the window, in momentary rebellion. "I'm well enough to walk, though, and I'll go over to the rocks with you, and we'll find out how it is we come to meet here. Wait a moment."

"Clover Guerrinar? I've heard of her. A great belle."

Stein answered with short breaths, heralding a coughing fit. "I hardly think of her beauty, having felt for so long that her face is life to me, from some power beneath the surface."

"Well," thought Wentworth, looking at his friend's pale bent profile with profound regret, "you won't live long if you don't have very much of her face, and very soon."

His face quite disappeared from the dim frame of wood - work, and Wentworth stood very still, smiling with surprise. When he heard his friend's step approaching the door to come out, his expression changed with a rather unlovely suddenness to that of deep concern. He was composed of subterfuge and dramatic feeling, as a Gothic structure is developed with ris-ed ing curves and useless loop-hales. He was infinitely clever, and infinitely inhuman.

But Stein knew what his value was, and justly rated it very high; for it is seldom that we find an artificial man who has the lasting impressiveness of one of genuine qualities; yet Wentworth positively deserved as much admiration in the capacity of a creature of artificial civilization as we give to men endowed with natural beauties of character. Stein took him by the arm and led him to a point of rocks up which the tide was creeping more and more vigorously.

"You tread like a lost man," said Wentworth, tenderly, although his words were rough. The other sank down upon the rock, and leaned his head on his hand, not so much from weakness as because plunged into deep reflection, or rather an overwhelming sense of his circumstances. "Is it the family disease?" asked Wentworth, after a short pause.

"We were engaged," Stein went on, turning more broadly toward his unexpected visitor; but as he spoke he shrank together, and held out his hand as if for help. Wentworth took it, and tears burnhis eyes. He was astonished by his own emotion.

"This is abominable!" he blustered, angrily. "You, who used to look as if Death himself could not kill you, and your eyes had a white fire of health in them that never sank a moment! If my life would save you from this plight, old chum, I sincerely believe I'd give it."

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Thank you; you're a good fellow, when you're once touched, Wentworth." The suffering man's gaze again sought the dark waters leaping higher and higher, and his hand fell to the rock from his friend's. Soon, as he himself reflected, even those deadly waves would be less terrible to contemplate than his own form, and their cold touch less chilling than contact with his death - frozen cheeks. How strange it would be when the time came that Clover Guerrinar's truest lover should be dead!

"What refined reason was there for all this?" asked Wentworth, suddenly, with the flavor of a sneer. "You could not love a frivolous woman. What turned up?"

"Yes. I courted it. I won that." Wentworth smiled over Stein's head as he exclaimed in response, “Oh, I seem to guess everything. You are love-sick?" "It was a matter that might have been And soon changing the smile to a sad ap-mended, perhaps, if treated with care," anprehensiveness of expression, he went on: There's no free girl under heaven whom you need lose, if you want her."

The invalid smiled himself, fixing his gaze upon the rising tide. "I don't be lieve in using artifice, or brute force, or servility, for my ends. In fact, I think there are few men less able to win a woman than I am, unless I can do it by the means of instinctive preference. Of course I thought she was mine. Did you ever meet Miss Guerrinar? She is the woman."

VOL. LXVII.-No. 400.-32

swered Stein; "but a mended crisis is not worth much. For one thing, she thought I looked down upon her with superiority, because I felt as if I encompassed her as a man would grasp a surpassing treasure. She said I wished to deprive her of the fresh air of untrammelled impulse; that she saw command in my glance, and perceived solicitous criticism in the tones of my voice. But if she rebelled against the laws of love, what could I do? I could not fawn upon her."

"And would fawning have brought

her round?" asked Wentworth, after a spoke. thoughtful pause on his side.

"Yes. She wished my native pride to turn to fear and lowliness before her. But, on the contrary, as you may well understand, I was more proud and elated than before I met her. I had too much money, moreover, which is a fault usually pardoned, for she is not to be an heiress, and thought our fortunes ought to be more equal. She wished to confer as many benefits as she received. I think a poor limp devil might possibly catch her in her present mood; but if she remains unmarried more than a year, I doubt if she ever falls in love again. When strong girls like her get to thinking of absolute freedom, they seldom turn upon their steps. It is like a day sleep, which misses all that is bright, but is heavier than sleep at the proper time. I don't see what is to be done with these beautiful mutineers who grow so thickly now. They will cause trouble in the world.”

"A poor limp devil might possibly catch her!" repeated Wentworth below his breath, and he looked out to sea with his mouth drawn down by his odd and frequent smile. "She might be almost fully punished, if any one would take the trouble."

"She is so proud herself, to an extent which is unjustifiable, that, having defied me, she would not yield a tithe of tenderness," Stein proceeded. "When we are made weak-armed as women, we may yield to them, but not yet. It is like expecting a general to withdraw from battle, and a battle which is to be decisive in benefit to his country. His country is honored by his stern patriotism, and he by his nationality. Both are disgraced by his passivity. You see I am dealing out to you some recluse thoughts."

A female voice close at hand put a stop to Stein's monologue. Wentworth looked up hastily, and Stein slowly. A dark clad girl, with a round face full of expression, but from which the mobility which brought the expression seemed to have vanished, and with rippling waves of light hair upon her low forehead, stood listlessly upon the rock. But though her attitude was, as if from habit, almost somnolent in its calm poise, her eyes were fixed keenly upon the disappointed lover. "You know you'll be worse after this," she said, her face, all but her lips, remaining immovable as a picture while she

"It's getting so raw now." She turned away abruptly, and moved down the rugged side of the point until only her head and shoulders could be seen. Wentworth thought her a remarkably pretty creature for the place, and judged that she was probably the one charming exception to rough surroundings which almost always exists if we can but discover it.

"Thank you, Lina," answered Stein, with a gracious smile. "I shall come to the house like a good child." He got up, shaking his shoulders from the cold. His face looked white as the rim of foam around the creeping water, which nearly lapped Lina's feet. She turned her head again and looked up at him in the prettiest position imaginable, and with a still, dreamy expression, as if she was looking at a star-a thing as unattainable as the dead.

"I shall be ready with your whiskey and milk," she exclaimed, after the manner of an amateur physician, and went slowly to the cottage.

"Who is she?" asked Wentworth. "She's wonderfully complete." "She is the daughter of my landlady," Stein answered. "They are all hugely kind to me."

"I wish I boarded here," muttered the visitor, slyly.

"Lina would be as difficult to flirt with as a statuette," Stein remarked, deprecatingly. "Did you observe her immobility? She has tremendous hidden impulses, however, and will perhaps make her way up to a high level. Her beauty certainly has great value when set off by this country region."

He invited Wentworth to his room, and as the evening was chilly, lighted some wood lying ready in the fire-place. Lina came, in a moment, with a steaming mug for the invalid, who was bending before the flames. The fire-light touched the rim of the girl's face, encircled by her pale rippling hair, and gave long flashes to her eyes. She stood behind Stein's chair, and handed the mug round to him from that humble vantage-ground.

"There's a fog coming to-night," she said, curtly.

"Ugh!" shuddered the sick man, “and the bell will keep me awake. The fogbell," he added, turning from the fire to Wentworth, "is a horrible thing to hear. It sounds every minute, and seems to re

proach one for not being ready for me till I die. burial."

A funereal silence followed Stein's complaint. As soon as he had taken his draught, Lina stooped over the chair and took the empty mug from his hand. Then she quickly left the room.

"My dear fellow, how came you in this place?" asked Wentworth, seating himself on the opposite side of the hearth. "Isn't the sea the worst medicine you could take for consumption?"

"At first I was better for coming here. If I am dying," said Stein, "it is because nothing can save me. I risked death, in my rage, after Clover threw me aside, and if I regret it now, that's all I shall get for my rashness. As for going to the trop ics, it would be a death-like forfeit to pay for living, you know, to vanish forever from one's native shores."

"Good heavens, Stein! why don't you forget that girl, with all her notions and affectations? I'll allow she may be a goddess, but, pardon me, a goddess waterlogged with selfish fancies is of no more use than an old punt."

"You need to be pardoned," Stein murmured. "Well, what is the use of overawing one's weakness of heart when awake, if a dream can shake the bulwarks of determination apart at night? Miss Guerrinar appeals to me in dreams."

"That is rather unfair," cried Wentworth.

"Yes. But one is not surprised by any trickery or ill luck," the other severely answered, "after the trickery of death has laid hands upon one's youth."

"But what brings you here?" Wentworth ejaculated, endlessly, appalled at the whole situation. “Did you wish to try getting out of the world before you were compelled to? Excuse me againbut did you also wish to try small quarters? I am really provoked with you, my dear fellow, for slipping off like an old dog in this way."

Stein lifted his head, and stared at Wentworth with his large and luminous but weary eyes.

"I was yachting along the coast," he answered. "I had been off by myself for some days, when I had a storm to deal with that sent me on shore and smashed my yacht. Why should I drift on? These people picked me up, and I think they'll have to bury me. I came to land with as much money as will last

pose?"

You are at the hotel, I sup

"At the hotel. And as it's two miles from here, perhaps I'd better be on the way back. But I shall come to-morrow to see how you are. That girl predicted trouble from your being out in the wind." Wentworth spoke shortly, because despairing.

"Yes. But I shall try and throw off the ice incasing me. Hear the bell!" he added, with a shrinking start.

"Stein!"

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He smiled in his quiet way. "You can not recall me to my old self, Wentworth. I am as easily flustered now as a partridge," he laughed, and his laugh ended in a coughing fit. The bell struck again.

Wentworth threw his hat out of his hand, and sat down in angry discomfort. "I must stay here, old fellow," he exclaimed.

"Oh no," answered the sufferer, panting. "You see, I may not live through the night. I am no companion." "I can not go."

"Do you feel so?" said Stein, looking round the room with knit brows, while the immitigable bell struck. "I'm afraid there's a meaning in it. How far off,

and yet clear as a reflection in crystal, those college days of ours look now! If I'd only been to the theatre, Jim, and a little wild overnight, this would wear off, and my prime remain untried, as in the strong halcyon years we have just left."

Wentworth came quite simply and knelt down by Stein's chair.

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'My dear friend, there is hardly a man of us better off than you are," he said, kindly uttering one of those truths which we ordinarily try to conceal from ourselves.

"It's good of you to cheer me in such a cheerless state," said the sick man, faintly; and the bell thrust his voice aside as if it were but the wind in a bough.

They grasped each other's hands for a moment. Suddenly Wentworth's sterling sympathy brought a change to the invalid's condition of mind. The tears which he saw in the eyes of his friend reminded him of those which Clover Guerrinar would have shed at seeing him this night. He seemed to see her with the marvellous distinctness with which love remembers.

He looked longingly into the empty air, he heard her voice, he knew again their fitness for each other,

which only a fatal accident of thought | had hindered. The original courage of his demeanor and nobleness of expression returned with these earlier feelings.

Stein's dreamy gaze came back to the moment with a smile. He lifted his hand slightly from the table, pointing upward. "God."

"And He kills!" was Wentworth's bitter comment, as he thrust his hands into his pockets with a mundane air of revolt.

Stein died, Wentworth having remained with him faithfully and devotedly to the end. The scheme of seeking Clover Guerrinar, and wreaking such punishment upon her as he could devise, grew in Wentworth's mind to engrossing proportions while he watched Stein fading

"I shall not fear the night,” he said. "My cowardice has gone. I was afraid to die an ignominious and obscure death, one of disease and desolation; but if I die with good cheer, it matters not from what cause or in what cause. My cough may try to unman me, the bell may toll, and the fog rell its winding-sheet against the window, but I shall not be overcome by them: I am more terrible than they! Bythe-way, you wonder why I hid myself here. Because I would not have the wo-out of existence. It was according to his man I love surrender through pity for all calculations to conceal the death as much life is worth. So even my family do not and as long as possible. He left the loneknow my whereabouts of late. They are ly village, the stretching beaches, the nofortunately abroad." ble ocean, and hurried inland. It was a ask-relief to him to get back to city life, for though his attention was wholly employed with a decidedly unconventional plan, yet the turmoil of a metropolis sanctioned the sophistication and cruelty of it far more easily than the broad light and sinewy honesty of Blue Harbor had done.

"You think she loves you, then?" ed Wentworth.

It took some time to discover the whereabouts of Miss Guerrinar, and during the interval the avenging friend went through an elaborate preparation for their meeting. He was practicing the part of an interesting man of weak nature-a nature which Miss Guerrinar was to be made to wish, overpoweringly, to round and strengthen. Of course Wentworth knew that he might fail of his object in every respect, but the very difficulty of the thing charmed him.

"Oh no; but she will, when it is too late." "Good God, Stein! no woman is worth your death. You were the bravest fellow of us all, the dearest companion we had, the purest example we knew. I hate her! What is she, who could learn your value, and then turn you off to the clutches of tragedy?" Wentworth sprang to his feet, and shook his tall, slender body, and clinched his hands as if grasping a knife and an enemy. His eyes shone with a fury of anger and hate which was the signal of the casting of a great epoch in his life. From that moment his forces for evil were gathered together in form and discipline. The man had reached the climax of his development according to his inborn proclivities. He was to be, for Some of his friends who happened upon a period at least, an active instrument in him at this time, although it was naturalthe iconoclasm of wrong and despair. And ly his wish to keep clear of them, asked his life would no doubt be the more flour-him if he were in bad business luck, beishing for dealing wholly with savage in- cause he seemed so woe-begone. To this stincts, since ingenious retaliation was one solution of his altered demeanor he readof his sturdiest inclinations. ily gave sanction. They also sometimes "How can you speak so?" Stein said, took upon themselves to decide that the in quiet tones of reproof.

change in him came from disappointed

Wentworth stamped his foot, and drew affection. But as for him, he cared not his head up like a stag's.

"As much as you love her, so I loathe her!" he cried, his lips white with the intensity of his passion. But come, I must forget my own feelings, if I can, and see what is to be done for you. In all this fog and beating of a dismal bell and provincial destitution, can't I find some one who understands your case? Whom do you employ?"

what was thought, so long as Miss Guerrinar did not learn that he had once been noted for self-sufficiency and action.

Strange to say, an hour before he met her, and while anticipating with triumph the opening of his intercourse with the woman who, in his opinion, belonged to Stein still, he experienced a tremendous sensation. His knees shook, his shoulders seemed to be drawn back, and his

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