“For the same reason that we were.  Madge meant to give us a surprise, and succeeded.  I couldn’t get over it, and they were always laughing at me, so I determined that I should have my laugh at you.  Oh, wasn’t it rich?  To think of the elegant and travelled society man standing there staring with his eyes and mouth wide open!”

“I don’t think it was quite so bad as that, but if it was there’s good reason for it.  Tell me, Madge, how this miracle was wrought!”

“There, that’s just what I called it,” cried Mrs. Muir, “and it’s nothing less than one, in spite of all that Madge and Henry can say.”

“When you are ready for supper I will show you one phase of the miracle,” said Madge, laughing, with glad music in her voice.  “Come, I’m not an escaped member of a menagerie, and there’s no occasion for you to stare any longer.”

“Yes, come along,” added Mr. Muir; “I’ve had no roast beef to-day and a surfeit of sentiment.”

The young fellow colored slightly, but said brusquely:  “Men’s tastes change with age.  I suppose you did not find a little sentiment amiss once upon a time.  Well, Madge, you are not a bit of a ghost now, yet I fear you are an illusion.”

“Illusions will vanish when you come to help me at supper.  We will wait for you on the piazza.”

As she paced its wide extent, her illusions also vanished.  Graydon had greeted, her as a brother, and a brother only.  When the tumult at her heart subsided, this truth stood out most clearly.  His kiss still tingled upon her lips.  It must be the last, unless followed by a kiss of love.  Their brotherly and sisterly relations must be shattered at once.  No such relations existed for her, and only as she destroyed such regard on his part could a tenderer affection take its place.  With her as his sister he would be content; he might not readily think of her in another light, and meantime might drift swiftly into an engagement with Miss Wildmere.

CHAPTER X

OLD TIES BROKEN

“Madge,” said Graydon, rejoining her on the piazza, and giving her his arm, while Mrs. Muir sat down to wait for her husband, “you wear a rose like the one you sent me when we parted so long ago.  Oh, but my heart was heavy then!  Did you make this choice to-night by chance?”

“You have a good memory.”

“You have not answered me.”

“I shall admit nothing that will increase your vanity.”

“You will now of necessity make my pride overweening.”

“How is that?  I hope to have a better influence over you.”

“As I look at you I regard my pride as most pardonable and natural.  My old thoughts and hopes are realized beyond even imagination, although, looking at your eyes, in old times, I always had a high ideal of your capabilities.  I should be a clod indeed if I were not proud of such a sister to champion in society.”