ease for all belonging to her, that they would rejoice equally with
herself. It did indeed seem more like a dream than a reality, as, with
Jack's arm round her waist and her head resting contentedly upon Jack's
shoulder, they drifted off into one of those delightful conversations
which follow all happy betrothals.

"Do you remember?" queried Jack. "Do you remember?" echoed Mollie.
"What did you mean when you said?"

"How did you feel when you heard?"

"When did you first begin?"

"And are you quite sure you will never, never--" It is all as old as the
hills, and as new as to-morrow morning, though each separate pair of
lovers imagine in their innocence that they own the exclusive monopoly.

"Jack!" cried Mollie at last, sitting suddenly upright and clasping her
hands in amaze. "Jack, imagine it! All this time I have forgotten the
most thrilling part of all. The condition--the mysterious condition!
What was it? What did you do, or leave undone, which made you different
from the rest of us?"

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

CONCLUSION.

"Aha!" cried Jack. "I wondered when you were coming to that! It was
indeed something of which we could never have thought! Mr Farrell had
learnt by sad experience that real happiness cannot be purchased by
money, so had determined to leave his fortune to the one who cared for
it least--that is to say, to the one who put other things first--love--
whole-hearted, disinterested love, such as he himself had felt for his
beautiful wife; and honest work, enjoyed for its own sake more than for
what it will bring! Ruth was out of the running from the start, for she
showed so plainly that, to her, money meant happiness. There must have
been a time when he wavered in favour of Druce, who played his part
remarkably well; but on the whole, it was my obstinate, ungracious self
which approached nearest to his ideal. He knew that I loved you, but
that I should never venture to ask you to be my wife if you were a great
heiress; so as he himself writes, he left you nothing, hoping that you
would share all. I want you literally to realise that, darling--and to
feel that the money belongs as much to you as to me!"

Mollie smiled at him in her sunny, candid fashion.

"Oh, I shall!" she said simply. "I mean to. There are so many things
that I want to do for the dear people here, and they would like them
better if they came from me. Uncle Bernard was a dear, sweet old thing
to scheme for