way," went on Hartmann, without waiting for Kathrien to reply to his
question, "it doesn't matter which of us thought of it first. It's
enough to know it's true. And you _will_ marry me to-morrow?"

"_Yes!_" vociferated Peter Grimm.

"Y-yes," faltered the girl.

"Listen, dear," continued Hartmann, "we won't be very well off, I'm
afraid. I've a little money--but not much. I know scientific gardening
as not many men know it. So we won't starve. But it won't be as if you
were going to marry a rich man like Frederik Grimm."

"Thank Heaven, it won't!" she breathed fervently. "And do you suppose it
will matter one bit to me that we won't be rich? I wish, of course, that
we didn't have to leave this dear old house, but----"

"If we had both the house and the little capital that belongs to me,"
answered Hartmann, "we could stay on here and make a splendid living.
But what's the use of building air castles?"

"Why not?" urged the Dead Man. "They're as cheap to build as air
dungeons; and a million times pleasanter to live in. But, don't fret
about the house. Frederik is going to turn it over to you--I've seen to
that. And you will prosper, you two, here in the home I loved."

"I believe it will come out all right!" declared the girl. "I have a
feeling that it will. Intuition if you like."

"'Intuition,'" repeated the Dead Man whimsically. "Yes. Call it that, if
you choose. 'Intuition' and 'telepathy' are both pretty synonyms for the
words spoken to you that mortal ears are too gross to understand and
whose sense sometimes finds vague resting-place in mortal brains."

"It will come out all right," she reiterated, smiling up at her lover.

"It's good to see you smile again," said Hartmann, once more drawing her
close to him. "I'm glad your cloud of grief is beginning to lift."

"It _has_ lifted," she returned. "When Oom Peter went away, and seemed
utterly lost to me forever, I thought my heart would break. But now--now
I know he _hasn't_ gone. I know he has been here with me this very
evening."

"I--I don't understand."

"It is true," she insisted. "You must believe it, dear. For it is very
real to me. I believe he came back to set me free from my promise to
Frederik. Some time--some time, I'll tell you all about it."

"In the meanwhile," adjured the Dead Man, "believe her, James. If men
would put less faith in their own four-square logic and more faith in
their wives' illogical beliefs, there'd be fewer mistakes mad