CHAPTER VIII.
THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE.
The next time Walter Clifford met Mary Bartley he was gloomy at intervals.

The observant girl saw he had something on his mind.

She taxed him with it, and asked him tenderly what it was.
"Oh, nothing," said he.
"Don't tell me!" said she.

"Mind, nothing escapes my eye.

Come, tell me, or we are not friends." "Oh, come, Mary.