hoping to see some wayfarer
coming past who might be able to tell me something of the accident. I
tried to consider how far it might be to the nearest wayside cottage,
where I might possibly learn some news that might break the awful
suspense. But my head was confused, and I suppose I did not calculate
the distance rightly, for after I had walked a mile I could see no
dwelling. The morning was breaking now, and the world looked pallid and
dreary. Suddenly my strength failed, I felt faint and dizzy, and sat
down upon a heap of stones, drawing my cloak over my face. My thoughts
became broken and confused, and my senses numb, I remained, lost in a
sort of stupid dream of trouble, I do not know how long, when the touch
of a hand on my shoulder made me start, and a voice said, "What is the
matter with you, my poor woman?"

It was a man's voice--a familiar voice; my children, it was the voice of
John Hollingford. With a cry I flung back the cloak from my face.
"John!--John!" I cried, and grasped him by both hands. There he stood
unhurt. I burst into a fit of weeping, though not a tear had I shed all
the while I had pictured him lying dead or dying. "I thought I never
should have seen your face again except in the coffin!"

I sobbed in my joy, hardly knowing what I said.

"Margery!" he said. "Is this all for me?"

"I cannot help it," I said. "I ought, but I cannot. No one knows but me.
I heard it last night--"

"You are killing yourself sitting here in the cold," said John. "You are
nearly frozen to death." He wrapped my cloak round me, and drew my arm
through his.

"Who told you of the accident?" he said.

"Mrs. Beatty."

"She might have kept her own counsel till to-day. Several poor fellows
have been killed, but many escaped, like myself, unhurt. And so you kept
it from my mother, and you grieved for me. Margery, may I ask again that
question I asked you the night before I went away? If it pains you, say
nothing."

"You may ask it."

"And what will you answer?"

"Anything you like."

"And you do not want to go to London?"

"Not unless you turn me out of doors."

"My darling!" he said. And so we became engaged there upon the snow.

How wonderful the sun rose that morning. How I walked home through
Paradise, forgetting that there was such a thing as suffering in the
world. How the girls hugged me when they knew all. How Mrs. Hollingford
smiled upon us. And how sweet the honey and rice-cakes tasted at
brea