CHAPTER XV.
SHIRLEY LEARNS A SECRET Nightingales warble about it All night under blossom and star; The wild swan is dying without it, And the eagle crieth afar; The sun, he doth mount but to find it Searching the green earth o'er; But more doth a man's heart mind it-- O more, more, more! -- G.E.

Woodberry.
Shirley Claiborne was dressed for a ride, and while waiting for her horse she re-read her brother's letter; and the postscript, which follows, she read twice: "I shall never live down my acquaintance with the delectable Armitage.

My brother officers insist on rubbing it in.

I even hear, _ma cherie_, that you have gone into retreat by reason of the exposure.

I'll admit, for your consolation, that he really took me in; and, further, I really wonder who the devil he is,--or _was_! Our last interview at the Club, after Chauvenet told his story, lingers with me disagreeably.