Madge soon found herself the object of no little curiosity and interest.  The story of her mad ride had reached the house, and she was recognized by some who had been on the train; but Graydon met inquiries in such a way that they were not pushed very far.  To a reporter he said, “Is this affair ours or the public’s?  We have not trespassed on any one’s rights.”

He reassured Madge by saying, “Don’t worry about it; such things are only the talk of a day.”

They returned during the afternoon.  Graydon’s manner was courtesy itself, and but little more; but he was becoming a vigilant student of his companion, and she soon was dimly aware of the fact.

“I will understand her,” he had resolved.  “I intend to get my bearings, and then shape my course, for I cannot help feeling that the destiny of the little girl who used to sit on my lap, with her head on my shoulder, is in some way interwoven with mine.  Even when I believed myself in love with another woman she had more power over me than Stella—­more power to kindle thought and awaken my deeper nature.  I begin to think that all her talk about being a friend, good fellow, etc., is greater nonsense than my fraternal proposals.  No friend, fellow, or sister could make my heart beat as it did to-day.  No human being in mortal peril could have awakened such desperate, reckless despair as I felt at one time, and” (with a smile to himself) “I never knew what a kiss was before.  I’m not the fool to ignore all these symptoms.  I’ll fathom the mystery of this sweet, peerless girl, if it takes all summer and all my life.”

But the fair enigma at his side grew more inscrutable.  Neither by tone nor glance did she indicate that he was more to her than she had said.

“Do you wish to recognize the scenes we passed over this morning?” he asked, gently, as they approached them.

“No, not yet.  I don’t wish to think about it any more than I can help.”

“Your wishes are mine.”

“Occasionally, perhaps.”

“You shall see.”

“I usually do,” was her laughing answer.

But she began to appear very weary, and when they reached the Under-Cliff House she went to her room, and did not reappear again that day.

Graydon made even Dr. Sommers’s ruddy cheek grow pale by his brief narrative, adding, “Perhaps her nerves have received a severer shock than she yet understands.  I wish you would tell Mrs. Muir the story, making as light of it as you can, and with her aid you can insure that Miss Alden obtains the rest and tonics she needs.  You can also meet and quiet the rumors that may be flying about, and you know that Miss Alden has a strong aversion to being talked to or of about personal affairs.”

In youth, health, and sleep Madge found the best restoratives, and the morning saw her little the worse for the experiences of the previous day.  The hours passed quickly in preparations for departure and in a call on Mr. and Mrs. Wendall, who gave evidence that they were becoming more resigned.