had come to me frankly and acknowledged all, my insane idolatry would have made me place her hand in his, and remove the barrier of poverty; and the assurance that I had secured his lifelong happiness would have sufficed for mine.  Oh! the height and depth and marvellous strength of my love for that man passes comprehension!  But their scorn, their sneers at my weak credulity, their bitter ridicule of my awkward, overgrown boyishness, stung me to desperation.  I wondered if I were insane, or dreaming, or the victim of some horrible delusion.  My veins ran fire as I listened to the tingling of her silvery voice with the rich melody of his, and I turned and left the garden, and walked back toward the town.  The moon was full, but I staggered and groped my way, like one blind, to the college buildings.  I knew where a pair of pistols was kept by one of the students, and possessing myself of them, I wandered out on the road leading to the parsonage.  I was aware that Murray intended coming into the town, and at last I reeled into a shaded spot near the road, and waited for him.  Oh! the mocking glory of that cloudless night!  To this day I hate the cold glitter of stars, and the golden sheen of midnight moons!  For the first time in my life, I cursed the world and all it held; cursed the contented cricket singing in the grass at my feet; cursed the blood in my arteries, that beat so thick and fast I could not listen for the footsteps I was waiting for.  At last I heard him whistling a favorite tune, which all our lives we had whistled together, as we hunted through the woods around Le Bocage; and, as the familiar sound of ‘The Braes of Balquither’ drew nearer and nearer, I sprang up with a cry that must have rung on the night air like the yell of some beast of prey.  Of all that passed I only know that I cursed and insulted and maddened him till he accepted the pistol, which I thrust into his hand.  We moved ten paces apart—­and a couple of students, who happened accidentally to pass along the road and heard our altercation, stopped at our request, gave the word of command, and we fired simultaneously.  The ball entered Murray’s heart, and he fell dead without a word.  I was severely wounded in the chest, and now I wear the ball here in my side.  Ah! a precious in memoriam of murdered confidence!”

Until now Edna had listened breathlessly, with her eyes upon his; but here a groan escaped her, and she shuddered violently, and hid her face in her hands.

Mr. Murray came nearer, stood close to her, and hurried on.

“My last memory of my old idol is as he lay with his handsome, treacherous face turned up to the moon; and the hair which Agnes had been fingering, dabbled with dew and the blood that oozed down from his side.  When I recovered my consciousness Murray Hammond had been three weeks in his grave.  As soon as I was able to travel, my mother took me to Europe, and for five years we lived in Paris, Naples, or wandered to and fro.  Then she came home, and