"And have I your permission to call for your answer tomorrow?"

Martha's face flushed.

"Why, I------think so," she returned hesitatingly as she glanced at his card. She felt a compelling force about this handsome stranger, as she followed his suggestion of allowing him to accompany her home.

After their long walk over fields and woods, they stood at the gate gaily chatting for some time, then he departed with evident reluctance, saying:

"Now you will not forget that I'm to call for you tomorrow?"

"You're to call for my answer," corrected Martha, laughingly.

"I shall call for both," declared Vallero, in a tone that quickened her pulse and deepened the color in her face. Then lifting his hat with a last look of admiration he left her, she strangely confused, trying to formulate her impression of him clearly. Her thoughts were singularly elusive and conflicting as she entered the house, with her heart beating in a tumult, in happy anticipation of the next day's meeting.

Martha informed her auntie of all that had happened, and was delighted to hear her say that she had no objection to the stranger's company, so long as he proved to be a gentleman.

Promptly on the following day, Vallero stopped his car in front of the Bourdalone home. With a radiant smile upon her face, Martha greeted him at the door. Upon being formally introduced to her aunt, to whom Vallero paid most courteous deference, he deplored the small capacity of his car, which made it impossible for her to accompany them.

Martha was glowing with pleasurable excitement. This was an event in the colorless life of the lonely girl. Vallero, elated and confident, took his seat beside her, and they were off for a long, delightful jaunt over the hill country. The mountain air was like wine, clear, balmy and exhilarating. With each turn of the winding road, new and wonderful vistas greeted the eye in the ever changing scenic panorama.

Vallero was at his best. Handsome, debonair, with a manner respectful, his conversation bore the charm of audacious admiration, which secretly delights the heart of every woman. He talked interestingly of his wide and varied experiences, and related many amusing and curious occurrences with ready wit, which Martha enjoyed heartily. Presently with a dexterous turn he directed the conversation to Adoni.

"Your brother, I dare say, will have some strange experiences to relate upon his return from the land of mystery, where they perform all kinds of occult wonders, in which he is interested also, is he not?"

"Yes, my brother went there to learn more about the laws of healing."

"I know he has already performed many wonderful cures, one especially that I know, a Miss Ralston, whose sight he restored about five years ago."

"Oh, yes," interrupted Martha happily. "I remember well, that was when he first began to practice, and he was so elated at his success."

"He naturally would be," replied Vallero with a peculiar inflection. "This same young lady was very ill last summer, doubtless your brother treated her then also?"

"I'm sure I don't know, he has always been so very busy, that I know very little about his life in the city."

"Too busy,"remarked Vallero with a searching look at his companion, "to even remember an idler like Clarence Vallero?"

Seeing that she was wholly unconscious of an ulterior purpose in his question, his heart rejoiced secretly with unholy glee for the opportunity the fates had thrown in his path, which would satisfy his desire for revenge. The thought of it gladdened his adventurous soul. He became more animated, surpassing himself in narrative and in the brilliancy of his repartee.

Martha responded to his gay sallies with hearty appreciation. She was happy. The ride, the scenery, the air, and most of all the charming personality of her companion, conspired to enrapture her soul.

In the soft spring twilight they returned home, where Aunt Martha invited Vallero to remain to dinner, after which they strolled into the moonlit garden. When at last he was ready to leave her, he had succeeded in ingratiating himself so deeply in her favor, that when he bade her good-night, the fervent pressure of his hand went unrebuked.

After that Vallero was a frequent guest at the farm-house.

There were long excursions over the mountains; long rambles through the woods; boating by moonlight; romantic evenings sitting together on the rustic seats in the garden, where furtive and ardent glances passed between them; quick flushes and sudden tremblings; deep sighs, long silences - at last stolen kisses, tender caresses and impassioned embraces.

Martha Bourdalone experienced the delicious delirium of first love. She was swept along in the mighty current with a rapidity which left her confused yet unutterably happy. She adored Clarence Vallero. He filled her lonely life and heart completely; she loved him with the unquestioning trust of a little child and with the passionate ardor of a woman.

Vallero was more in love than he had ever been before. Martha's implicit trust, her unprotected helplessness, the sincerity and purity of her love touched even his world-worn heart, inspiring in it an unwonted feeling of chivalry. He delighted in their mutual affection, which made it unnecessary for him to resort to the influence he had exerted over Truth, and he felt a curious repugnance at the thought of employing it in his love for Martha. He delighted in the unconstrained adoration of her pure heart.

Again they were in the garden.

"Must you really go away, Clarence?"

"It will only be for a couple of days, darling, but to me it will seem like years. Are you sorry to have me go, sweetheart?"

He felt the quick indrawing of her breath and a quivering sigh fell from her lips. "I shall be so lonely for - I - love you so much, Clarence, that it seems as though I could not live without you any more."

Tenderly he kissed her, reassuring her that he would return in three days and then have a happy surprise for her.

"When did you say, darling, that you expect your brother to return?"

"I hardly know but I think he must surely be on the ocean now for otherwise I would certainly hear from him."

"Sweetheart, promise me that if he should come during my absence, you will keep our secret until I return. I want to tell him myself, dear, and ask him to give his dear little sister to me. Do you think he will refuse?"

"Adoni will do whatever is for my happiness," assured Martha confidently.

"Listen to me, darling. I don't know what it is, little one, but I have a strange presentiment - something - that might separate us."

"Oh! Clarence, don't say that - you frighten me!"

"I do not wish to do that but I shall not feel easy until I hold you safe in my arms again. I will surely return Wednesday on the afternoon train. I will be here in the garden at eight o'clock - right here on this dear spot, where we have spent so many happy hours. I want to hold my darling again in my arms and tell her how much I love her. Oh, sweetheart - I shall be so hungry for your lips after three days of separation. Will you hasten to me, darling?"

"I will, Clarence."

It was midnight when he left her.

She stole softly up to her room and sat by the window in the darkness. She could not sleep, the fever of love binned in her veins; she thrilled in ecstatic remembrance of his ardent embraces, and his long impassioned farewell kiss.