it is hard for you--" the soft voice faltered.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"If you really think I'm--cruel and--silly, you--needn't wait--any
longer--if you wish--"

His arms were about her, drawing her near, clasping her ever closer,
and she held him away no more, but--beholding her wistful eyes, the
plaintive droop of her vivid mouth, and all the voiceless pleading of
her, he loosed her and turned away.

"I love you so much--Hermione, so much, that your will shall be my
will."

She rose, and leaning against the carved mantel stared down into the
fire; when at last she spoke, there was a note in her voice he had never
heard before,

"Geoffrey, dear, this world is a very bad world for a lonely girl, and
sometimes a very hateful world, and I have been lonely nearly all my
life--and I didn't think there were such men as you; I didn't think any
man could love so unselfishly. All my life I shall--treasure the
recollection of this hour--yes, always! always!"

Then she turned and, ere he knew, was on her knees before him, had
twined soft arms about his neck, and was looking up at him through
shining tears.

"Yes, I'm--crying a little! I don't do it often, dear--tears don't
easily come with me. But now I'm crying because--oh, because I'm so
proud--so proud to have won such a wonderful love. Good night--good
night! Oh, break your word for once--kiss me, my husband!"

So while she knelt to him thus, he kissed her until she sighed and
stirred in his embrace. Then she rose and hand in hand they crossed the
room and he opened the door; for a blissful moment they stood there
silent in the shadows, but when he would have kissed her again she
laughed at him through her tears and fled from him up the wide stairway.

CHAPTER XLIII

HOW SPIKE GOT EVEN

A clock in the hall without struck midnight, but Ravenslee sat on long
after the silvery chime had died away, his chin sunk on broad chest, his
eyes staring blindly at the fading embers, lost in profound but joyful
meditation; once he turned to look where she had stood beside the
mantel, and once he reached out to touch the thrice-blessed chair that
had held her.

The curtains stirred and rustled at the open window behind him, but he
sat looking into the flickering fire, seeing there pictures of the
future, and the future was full of a happiness beyond words, for in
every picture Hermione moved.

All at once he started and glanced swiftly around, his lounging attitude
ch