upon the waves.

Her face was deadly pale and showed signs of a night's vigil, but when
she caught sight of Michael it was as though the sun had emerged from a
cloud, so radiant grew her eyes. She stood quite still, waiting until
they advanced near to her down the long room, and then she steadied
herself against the back of a tall chair.

"Sabine," Henry said, "I want you to be very happy on this Christmas
day, and so I have brought your husband back to you. All these foolish
divorce proceedings are going to be stopped, and you and he can settle
all your differences, together, dear--" then, as a glad cry forced
itself from Sabine's lips--his voice broke with emotion. She stretched
out her hands to him, and he took one and drew her to Michael, who stood
behind him.

Then he took also his old friend's hand, and clasped it upon Sabine's.

"I am not much of a churchman," he said, hoarsely, "but this part of the
marriage service is true, I expect. 'Those whom God hath joined together
let no man put asunder.'" Then he dropped their hands, and turned toward
the door.

"Oh! Henry, you are so good to us!" Sabine cried. "No words can say what
I feel."

But Lord Fordyce could bear no more--and murmuring some kind of
blessing, he got from the room, leaving the two there in the embrasure
of the great window gazing into each other's eyes.

As the door shut, Michael spoke at last:

"Sabine--My own!" he whispered, and held out his arms.

* * * * *

When Henry left Sabine's sitting-room, he staggered down the stairs like
one blind--the poignant anguish had returned, and the mantle of comfort
fell from his shoulders. He was human, after all, and the picture of the
rapture on the faces of the two, showing him what he had never obtained,
stabbed him like a knife. He felt that he would willingly drop over the
causeway bridge into the boiling sea, and finish all the pain. He saw
Moravia's blue velvet dress in the distance down the road when he left
the lodge gates, and he fled into the garden; he must be alone--but she
had seen him go, and knew that another crisis had come and that she must
conquer this time also. So apparently only for the gratification of
Girolamo, she turned and entered the garden--the garden which seemed to
be a predestined spot for the stratagems of lovers!--then she strolled
toward the sea-wall, not turning her head in the direction where she
plainly perceived Henry had gone,