away baulked of his wish.

"I'm sure it opens at eight," she exclaimed; "and it can't be very far
from eight now. Let's wait here the few minutes! I'm in no hurry, if you
can spare the time?" Rose spoke rather quickly and breathlessly. She was
trying hard to behave as if this little adventure of theirs was a very
conventional, commonplace happening.

He said something--she was not sure whether it was "All right" or "Very
well."

On each side of the porch ran a low and deep stone bench, from which
sprang the slender columns which seemed to climb eagerly upwards to the
carved ribs of the vaulted roof. But they both went on standing close to
one another, companioned only by the strange sculptured creatures which
grinned down from the spandrels of the arches above.

And then, after waiting for what seemed an eternity--it was really
hardly more than a minute--in the deep, brooding silence which seemed to
enwrap the Close, the Cathedral, and their own two selves in a mantle of
stillness, Rose Otway, bursting into sobs, made a little swaying
movement. A moment later she found herself in Jervis Blake's arms,
listening with a strange mingling of joy, surprise, shame, and, yes,
triumph, to his broken, hoarsely-whispered words of love.

He, being a man, could only feel--she, being a woman, could also think,
aye, and even question her own heart as to this amazing thing which was
happening, and which had suddenly made her free of the wonderful kingdom
of romance of which she had so often heard, but the existence of which
she had always secretly doubted. Whence came her instinctive response to
his pleading: "Oh, Rose, let me kiss you! Oh, Rose, my darling little
love, this may be the last time I shall see you!"

* * * * *

Was it at the end of a moment, or of an aeon of time, that there fell
athwart their beating hearts a dull, rasping sound, that of the two
great inner bolts of the huge oak door being pushed back into their
rusty sockets?

They parted, reluctantly, lingeringly, the one from the other; but
whoever had drawn back the bolts did not open the door, and soon they
heard the sounds of heavy, shuffling feet moving slowly away.

"I expect it's Mrs. Bent, the verger's wife," said Rose, in a low,
trembling voice.

Jervis looked at her. There was a mute, and at once imperious and
imploring demand in his eyes. But Rose had stepped across the magic
barrier, she was half-way back to the wo