Van Dusens have to deal out to you. I have helped you out of many a scrape, but this time you must face it, and I will not say one word in mitigation of your idiotic conduct."

Anthony Strowbridge had stood silent and moody during this speech.

"All right," he snapped in answer, “I am ready and glad to go. I am not ashamed of anything I have done, and I have wanted all along to tell her people, only she would not let me.”

"Would not let you! Good heavens, boy! Is that your idea of a man's part? If a man thinks a thing right, he should go ahead and do it, and the girl who loves him, if her love is of the right kind, will respect him all the more for having his own way."

As they wandered back along the cliff, the elder man walked with his arm around his young cousin's shoulder and the argument between them was full of animation and vehemence. As they neared the inn, where they were to breakfast, Tony halted in his tracks and turned to the Doctor.

"Say, Gerry, it is all very well for you to say 'you should' and 'you should not,' but what does an old bachelor like you know about it? I do not believe you ever loved or could love a woman in

your life. You don't know how it sweeps a man off his feet, how it blinds his judgment and sets his soul on fire. You stand there and argue and advise and judge me, but if you had ever been in the same boat you would understand and sympathise. Then, I can tell you, you would find all sorts of extenuating circumstances and excuses, while now you can use only such words as 'foolish,' 'unmanly,' 'dishonourable, etc. Really, if I did not remember how good and splendid you have always been to me and how much I really owe you, dear old man, I'd feel like saying, "This is my affair and I shall thank you not to meddle in it.""

Gerald laughed and clapped the boy on the shoulder. "All right, my dear chap. I did not mean to be hard on you. In the pleasant paths of love I may be a gaunt and witless stranger, but you will grant I know my own business, and as the medical adviser of that poor little girl, I tell you this silly secret has gone too far and we have to act and act pretty quickly, if roses are to come back to her cheeks and laughter to her poor trembling little Cupid-bow of a mouth. She's pretty well on the edge of an ugly break-down and I think there's no time to be lost."

Tony's manner changed in a moment. "Oh!

I say, where is that car of yours? Why should we wait for breakfast? Really, I can't wait. Let's go to her right away."

Gerald laughed and stretched out a restraining hand.

'Steady, boy, don't fly off the handle. She will not be up for a couple of hours yet and she does not tell her mother until breakfast time this morning. We can have our coffee and a leisurely ride over. Then we will be right on hand at the house, to act the moment we are needed."

As they passed in to breakfast, a smile curved the Doctor's firm lips and he added: "I may not know much about your kind of love, but I know enough to do my level best to smooth your path, for I do know full well how mighty rough and steep the path has been for some men's feet, in the quest of the girl of their dreams."

CHAPTER IV

MURIEL

CUPID SCORES ONE

URIEL MORRIS, no longer dressed in nurse attire, but sweet and dainty in a white embroidered dress, sat at the window of her room at Lake Mohonk, gazing into the green waters beneath her and dreaming of many things that had been and perhaps musing of things yet to come. Since she had entered training as a nurse, nearly five years had gone by. Her life had been a very busy one and, truly loving her work, she had soon found it easy to throw her whole soul into the duties of each day. What brief vacations she could snatch from her labours, she would spend with her friend Mrs. McDonald, who became dearer to her as their friendship lengthened and deepened. As she looked back over that sweet friendship, tears gathered unbidden and a little sob echoed through the stillness of the room, for that sweet soul had passed to her reward and on a quiet hillside robins sang and flowers bloomed over a newly-made grave.

Though Muriel had come to love the country where her lot was now cast, she had never had any thought of staying on after her mission was accomplished. In all her calculations, Jack's vindication was to be the signal for her return to home and friends in England. Sir Jeffrey Dean, who had been over to visit her, counted greatly on her aid in his private hospital should she wish on her return to devote herself to her profession as a life interest.

Now that Jack's name was freed from dishonour and her dearest friend was dead, her life seemed to her to have no anchor to hold it to American soil, and yet, why was it that the thought of departure brought such a sinking to her heart and awoke the echoes with the sigh that came so unconsciously as to startle her?

Muriel's eyes were still gazing unseeingly over the lake, to cliff and forest beyond, or she might have seen the flutter of tiny wings close at hand and noted a wistful little face peering at her over the railing of her balcony. As the little god drew an arrow from his quiver, he shook his curly head somewhat dubiously and glanced keenly at the rise and fall of the filmy lace over the region of her heart.

Of course she was going to England, she said to herself. There was nothing else to do, but some