ver.

"Wait," cautioned Ruth. "There is more. Mother died thinking I was
her only child. But two girls were born to mother, and a dead child to
the Grand Duchess. Mother never saw one of her babies. She never
knew. And it was years before the Grand Duchess learned that her child
had died. Carlotta was my full sister. She was stolen to replace the
dead child. Now do you see?"

"But how did you come to know all this?" asked Mark.

"Carlotta told me. The Grand Duchess never seemed to care for
Carlotta; Carlotta's old nurse resented this and one day, after a worse
storm than usual, told Carlotta that the Duchess was not her mother.
There was a terrible scene in the palace. The old nurse was all but
banished, but Carlotta saved her. She was sworn to secrecy by the
Grand Duke. The Duchess died later as a result of the affair--of
apoplexy. Then the nurse disappeared, no one knew how or where, but
not before she had told Carlotta all about the twins that were born to
the Grand Duke's English wife. Carlotta had the secret and ruled her
father with it. She was allowed her own way, and it was not always a
good way. Her last escapade was the one you already know. Poor girl,
she was as good as a court would let her be; and here in Sihasset she
repented. But she believed in her lover, which I never did. I knew
his reputation, but she would not listen to a word against him. Now
you have the whole story."

"And you," Mark managed to say, "you are the real Grand Duchess now.
What a misfortune!"

"No," she replied, "I could never make such a claim; for my mother's
marriage was never admitted by the court as a royal marriage. It was
considered morganatic. Her children were legitimate, but could never
succeed to the throne."

"But, even so," insisted Mark, "you are the Grand Duchess."

Ruth put her hand gently over his mouth. "I am to be more than a grand
duchess, dear. I am to be your wife--to-morrow."

The sun was below the horizon now. For a while longer they watched its
banners of flaming red and yellow flung across the sky. Then, hand in
hand, they retraced their steps to Killimaga, where Mark left her with
a whispered, "Sweet dreams, dear," and went his way toward the rectory.

As he sauntered aimlessly along, his thoughts were all of her. Never
once had she lectured him on religious matters, yet she was splendidly
sincere, and her faith of the greatest. And she had been praying for
him all the