"All depends upon Madeline."
"Poor Philip," sighed Olive, "what would he say if he knew that his fate rests in the hands of a mere girl?"
"If he knew of that 'mere girl' what we know, he would say that his fate could not rest in better hands. No man ever had a more efficient champion, nor one half so brave and beautiful."
They had not dared to tell Philip of the hope that was daily growing stronger in their hearts; if they failed, he should be thrust back into no gulf of black darkness because they had cheated him with a false hope.
CHAPTER XLIV.
A FRESH COMPLICATION.
On leaving so abruptly the companionship of Dr. Vaughan, Claire rushed straight to her room. Closing and locking the door, she flung herself down upon a couch and indulged in a hearty cry. She was at once happy and sorry, angry and pleased. Presently, Claire sat up and began to review things more calmly.
"What a wretched little dunce I am!" she soliloquized. "And what must he think of me! Well!" with a little sigh, "the worse his opinion of me, the better for Madeline. And here I am this minute, in spite of myself, actually rejoicing in my heart because he has not done the very thing I have resolved that he should do. But he never will know it. Neither shall any one else. I won't give him another chance to talk to me; no, not if I have to take to my heels ten times a day. It's only right that I should give him up; I, indeed, who fancied myself in love with a white-handed, yellow-haired villain."
At this point in her meditations, some one rapped softly at her door.