as affording you a happy escape."

Ida's lips trembled and her eyes became downcast. Disappointment was
eloquently depicted on her face.

"No, I am sorry," she said. "I--I should have liked to have seen the
letter."

"Would you really?" he purred, penitently, as she turned away to the
window. "Then I will go and get it; my rooms are only a short
distance."

"Oh, pray, don't trouble," she said, so faintly that Howard found it
difficult not to smile.

"Not at all," he said, politely, and left the room.

As he went down the stairs he glanced at his watch, and muttered:

"Now, if the young idiot isn't up to time--"

At that moment there was a knock at the hall-door, the servant opened
it, and Stafford entered with a gloomy countenance and a reluctant
gait.

"I've come," he said, rather morosely; "though I don't know why you
should have insisted upon my doing so--or what good it will do me to
hear about her," he added, in a low voice, as they followed the servant
up the stairs.

As the man touched the handle of the door, Howard said:

"Go in, my dear fellow; I've left my pocket-handkerchief in my overcoat
in the hall: back in a moment."

With a frown of annoyance, Stafford hesitated and looked after him;
then, with a shrug of his shoulders, he obeyed and entered the room.

They uttered no cry of surprise, of joy. They stood for a moment
looking at each other with their hearts in their eyes. It was the
moment that bridged over all the weary months of waiting, of longing,
of doubts and fears, of hope that seemed too faint for hope and but a
mockery of despair.

He had no need to ask her if she loved him, her face was eloquent of
the truth; and her eyes reflected the love that glowed in his. He had
got hold of her hand before she knew it, had drawn her to him, and,
utterly regardless of the fact that he was in a strange house, that
they might be interrupted any moment, he kissed her passionately with
all the passion that had been stored up for so long.

"Ida," he said, as he bent over her and pressed her to him, "I have
come back, I cannot live without you--ah, but you know that, you know
that. Is it too late? It is not too late?"

"No; it is not too late," she whispered. "I--I did not know whether you
would come. But I have been waiting; I should have waited all my life.
But the time has been very long, Stafford!"

* * * * *

At the end of the quarter of an hour for which H