urrah! hurrah!"

"Oh, Henry, my love!" said Grace imploringly; "pray, pray do not
offend Him, by rejoicing at such a moment over the death, perhaps the
everlasting death, of a poor, sinful fellow-creature."

"All right, dearest. Only don't let us descend to hypocrisy. I thank
Heaven he is dead, and so do you."

"Pray don't SAY so."

"Well, I won't: let him go. Death settles all accounts. Did you see me
stretch out my hand to save him?"

"I did, my angel, and it was like you: you are the noblest and the
greatest creature that ever was, or ever will be."

"The silliest, you mean. I wondered at myself next minute. Fancy me
being such an idiot as to hold out a hand to save him, and so wither
both our lives--yours and mine; but I suppose it is against nature not
to hold out a hand. Well, no harm came of it, thank Heaven."

"Let us talk of ourselves," said Grace, lovingly. "My darling, let no
harsh thought mar the joy of this hour. You have saved my life again.
Well, then, it is doubly yours. Here, looking on that death we have just
escaped, I devote myself to you. You don't know how I love you; but you
shall. I adore you."

"I love you better still."

"You do not: you can't. It is the one thing I can beat you at and I
will."

"Try. When will you be mine?"

"I am yours. But if you mean when will I marry you, why, whenever you
please. We have suffered too cruelly, and loved too dearly, for me to
put you off a single day for affectations and vanities. When you please,
my own."

At this Henry kissed her little white feet with rapture, and kept
kissing them, at intervals, all the rest of the way: and the horrors
of the night ended, to these two, in unutterable rapture, as they paced
slowly along to Woodbine Villa with hearts full of wonder, gratitude,
and joy.

Here they found lights burning, and learned from a servant that Mr.
Carden was gone down to the scene of the flood in great agitation.

Henry told Grace not to worry herself, for that he would find him and
relieve his fears.

He then made Grace promise to go to bed at once, and to lie within
blankets. She didn't like that idea, but consented. "It is my duty to
obey you now in every thing," said she.

Henry left her, and ran down to the Town Hall.

He was in that glorious state of bliss in which noble minds long to
do good actions; and the obvious thing to do was to go and comfort the
living survivors of the terrible disaster he had so narrowly escape