Kate leaned back and looked a long time at the shining white waves and
the deep blue sky, then she turned to John Jardine, and began to talk.
She told him simply a few of the most presentable details of her life:
how she had lost her money, then had been given her mother's farm,
about the children, and how she now lived. He listened with deep
interest, often interrupting to ask a question, and when she ceased
talking he said half under his breath: "And you're now free! Oh, the
wonder of it! You're now, free!"

Kate had that night to think about the remainder of her life. She
always sincerely hoped that the moonlight did not bewitch her into
leading the man beside her into saying things he seemed to take delight
in saying.

She had no idea what time it was; in fact, she did not care even what
Nancy Ellen thought or whether she would worry. The night was
wonderful; John Jardine had now made a man of himself worthy of all
consideration; being made love to by him was enchanting. She had been
occupied with the stern business of daily bread for so long that to be
again clothed as other women and frankly adored by such a man as John
Jardine was soul satisfying. What did she care who worried or what
time it was?

"But I'm keeping you here until you will be wet with these mists," John
Jardine cried at last. "Forgive me, Kate, I never did have any sense
where you were concerned! I'll take you back now, but you must promise
me to meet me here in the morning, say at ten o'clock. I'll take you
back now, if you'll agree to that."

"There's no reason why I shouldn't," said Kate.

"And you're free, free!" he repeated.

The veranda, halls, and ballroom were deserted when they returned to
the hotel. As Kate entered her room, Nancy Ellen sat up in bed and
stared at her sleepily, but she was laughing in high good humour. She
drew her watch from under her pillow and looked at it.

"Goodness gracious, Miss!" she cried. "Do you know it's almost three
o'clock?"

"I don't care in the least," said Kate, "if it's four or five. I've had
a perfectly heavenly time. Don't talk to me. I'll put out the light
and be quiet as soon as I get my dress off. I think likely I've ruined
it."

"What's the difference?" demanded Nancy Ellen, largely. "You can ruin
half a dozen a day now, if you want to."

"What do you mean?" asked Kate.

"'Mean?'" laughed Nancy Ellen. "I mean that I saw John Jardine or his
ghost come up to you on