rs ago--perhaps you would laugh and
think me foolish if you knew how many----"

"Oh, no, Cloudy, never!" said Leslie softly; and Allison growled a
dissenting note.

"Well--there was some one whom I loved--who died. That is all; only--I
never could love anybody that way again. Marriage without a love like
that is a desecration."

"O Cloudy! We never knew----" murmured Leslie.

"No one ever knew, dear. He was very young. We were both scarcely more
than children. I was only fourteen----"

"O Cloudy! How beautiful! And you have kept it all these years! Won't
you--tell us just a little about it? I think it is wonderful; don't
you, Allison?"

"Yes, wonderful!" said Allison in that deep, full tone of his that
revealed a man's soul growing in the boy's heart.

"There is very little to tell, dear. He was a neighbor's son. We went
to school together, and sometimes took walks on Saturdays. He rode me
on his sled, and helped me fasten on my skates, and carried my books;
and we played together when we had time to play. Then his people moved
away out West; and he kissed me good-by, and told me he was coming
back for me some day. That was all there was to it except a few little
letters. Then they stopped, and one day his grandmother wrote that he
had been drowned saving the life of a little child. Can you understand
why I want to wait and be ready for him over there where he is gone? I
keep feeling God will let him come for me when my life down here is
over."

There was a long silence during which the young hands gripped hers
closely, and the young thoughts grew strangely wise with insight into
human life and all its joys and sorrows. They were thinking out in
detail just what their aunt had missed, the sweet things that every
woman hopes for, and thinks about alone with God; of love, strong
care, little children, and a home. She had missed it all; and yet she
had its image in her heart, and had been true to her first thought of
it all the years. Now, when it was offered her again, she would not
give up the old love for a new, would not take what was left of life.
She would wait till the morning broke and her boy met her on the other
shore.

Suddenly, as they thought, strong young arms encircled her, and held
her close in a dear embrace.

"Then you're ours, Cloudy, all ours, for the rest of down here, aren't
you?" half whispered Leslie.

"Yes, dear, as long as you need me--_want_ me," she finished.

"We shall want you