ng his hands on a very damp handkerchief.

"I am so glad, Mr. Graeme," she said, with sparkling eyes and face,
and hearty outstretched hand.

"Margaret has told you?"

"Of course Margaret has told me. Am I not her keeper, and haven't I
been hoping for this since ever I saw you?"

"That is very good of you. I thought, perhaps--"

"Thought it might take me by surprise, I suppose--and perhaps that I
might take it badly? Not a bit! It fulfils my very highest hopes. And
I can assure you you have got a prize. There are not many girls like
Margaret Brandt."

"Don't I know it? I have known it from the very first time I met
her--at that blessed Whitefriars' dinner."

"I think you will make her very happy."

"I promise you I will do my very best."

And then Margaret came into the kitchen and knew what was toward.

She looked like a queen and a princess and a goddess all in one, with
a flood of happy colour in her face and a glad glow in her eyes, and
no more hint of maidenly shyness about her than was right and natural.
And Miss Penny's eyes were misty of a sudden, as Graeme went quickly
up to her friend, and feasted his hungry eyes on her face for a
moment, and then bent and gallantly kissed her hand. For in both their
faces was the great glad light that is the very light of life, and
Miss Penny was wondering if, in some distant future time, it might
perchance be vouchsafed to her also to attain thereto.

"I hope you both slept well," he said gaily. "I've done my best in the
provisioning line. I know we've got plenty of salt, for one generally
forgets it and so I always put in two packets."

"You've done splendidly," said Miss Penny, tying up tea in a piece of
muslin and dropping it into the kettle.

"I'd have tried for a rabbit, but I wasn't sure if either of you could
skin it--"

"Ugh! Don't mention it!"

"And I knew I couldn't, so we'll have to put up with roasted potatoes
and imagine the rabbit. I've been told they do that in some parts of
Ireland,--hang up a bit of bacon in a corner and point at it with the
potato and so imagine the flavour."

"Potatoes are excellent faring--when there's nothing better to be
had," said Miss Penny, rooting in the basket. "However, here are three
of yesterday's sandwiches, slightly faded, and some biscuits--in good
condition, thanks to the tin. Come, we shan't absolutely starve!"

And they enjoyed that meal--two of them, at all events, and perhaps
three--as they had neve