without you, even
in a palace, would not seem worth the living. Can you love me enough
to share my life and home, whatever it may be, as my wife?"

He had taken her hand, and she did not withdraw it, but looking in his
face, she asked:

"Would you make me your wife, knowing so little of me as you do?"

"I think I know enough," he replied, "I know that you are a pure,
true-hearted woman; I know that whether you love me or not," her eyes
dropped, "there is no one you love better than me; and though I do
not know it, I am almost sure that you do care for me in some degree,
am I not right?"

She looked up into the face bending over her, and Houston read his
answer in her eyes, and even had she tried to speak, he gave her no
opportunity for doing so.

"To think of your conceit!" exclaimed Miss Gladden, a few moments
later, "in having the assurance to say that I cared for no one more
than you, whether I loved you or not; how did you ever come to make
such an assertion?"

"Your eyes betrayed you," he answered, while she blushed, "they often
tell tales, but I have noticed they always tell the truth, and I knew
they would never have told me some secrets that they have, if there
was any one else you cared for."

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted their conversation, and
brought them back to the common, every-day affairs of life, and
turning, they saw Rutherford coming up the path from the lake, where
he had gone for a stroll.

"Hello, Houston!" exclaimed the latter, catching a glimpse of his
friend, "when did you come? Well, I'm awfully glad you've got back,
we've missed you, old fellow, I can tell you."

"Welcome home!" said a sweet voice, and Houston saw the starry eyes
and golden crowned head of Lyle framed in the door-way, and hastened
to greet her. She met him with a woman's grace, and with a child's
affection looking frankly out of her lovely eyes. After his brief
absence, Houston was impressed by her beauty as never before. "I
didn't know the child was so beautiful," he thought to himself, "I
believe she grows lovelier every day, and she reminds me strangely of
some one I have seen long ago."

"Oh, by the way," said Rutherford, as the friends seated themselves
around the dinner table, "I've just received a letter from my brother,
and he says he is coming out here."

"Your brother!" exclaimed Miss Gladden and Houston, "What! coming here
among the mountains?"

"Yes," he replied, "he happened to