ure, draped and veiled in black, entered alone.

The visitor stood still. Once more the invalid attempted to rise, once
more his strength failed him. The lady threw back her veil with a sudden
emotion.

"My God, Aileen!"

"Rupert!"

She was on her knees before him, lifting her suppliant hands.

"Forgive me! forgive me! I have seemed the most heartless and cruel of
women. But I too, have suffered. I am base and unworthy; but, oh!
forgive me, if you can."

The old love, stronger then death, shone in her eyes, plead in her
passionate, sobbing voice, and went to his very heart.

"I have been so wretched, so wretched all these miserable years. While
my father lived, I would not disobey his stern command, that I was never
to attempt to see or hear from you, and at his death I could not. You
seemed lost to me and to the world. Only by the merest accident I heard
in Venice you were here, and ill--dying. I lost no time; I came hither
at once, hoping against hope to find you alive. Thank God I did come. O
Rupert! for the sake of the past forgive me."

"Forgive you!" and he tried to raise her. "Aileen--darling!"

His weak arms encircled her, and the pale lips pressed passionate kisses
on the tear-wet face.

So while the glory of the sunset lay on the sea, and until the stars
spangled the sky, the reunited lovers sat in the soft haze, as Adam and
Eve may have sat in the loveliness of Eden.

"How long since you left England?" Rupert asked, at length.

"Two years ago; poor papa died in the South of France--you mustn't blame
him too much, Rupert."

"My dearest, we will talk of blaming no one. And Guy and May are
married? I knew they would be."

"Did you? I was so surprised when I read it in the _Times_; for you know
May and I never corresponded--she was frantically angry with me. Do they
know you are here?"

"No, I rarely write, and I am constantly moving about; but I know that
Guy is very much beloved in St. Gosport. We will go back to England, one
of these days, my darling, and give them the greatest surprise they have
received since Guy Thetford learned who he really was."

He smiled as he said it--the old bright smile she remembered so well.
Tears of joy filled the beautiful upturned eyes.

"And you will go back? O Rupert! it needed but this to complete my
happiness."

He drew her closer, and then there was a long delicious silence, while
they watched together the late-rising moon climbing the misty hills
a