She is his bride-elect. In her dark way she is very hand some. She is to be married to Sir Victor early in the next month, and she is as much in love with him as it is at all possi ble to be. A fair fate surely. And yet while the August night shuts down, while the wind whistles in the trees, while the long fingers of the elm, just outside the window, tap in a ghostly way on the pane, she stands here, ?ushed, angry, impatient, and sullen, her handsome lips set in a tight, rigid line.