sed.
"You are a more fortunate man than I am--than I have ever been," he
added, gloomily. "But that does not lighten my mistake."

"Think no more of it," answered Heathcote. "I assure you, it is to me a
matter of not the slightest consequence."

The words were double-edged, but Dexter bore them in silence. They shook
hands, and separated, nor did they meet again for many years.

CHAPTER XLI.

"Love is strong as death. Many waters can not quench love, neither
can floods drown it."--_The Proverbs of Solomon._

The war was over at last; peace was declared. The last review had been
held, and the last volunteer had gone home.

Two persons were standing on the old observatory floor, at the highest
point of the island, looking at the little village below, the sparkling
Straits, and the blue line of land in the distant north. At least Anne
was looking at them. But her lover was looking at her.

"It is enough to repay even the long silence of those long years," he
said.

And others might have agreed with him. For it was a woman exquisitely
and richly beautiful whom he held in his arms, whose tremulous lips he
kissed at his pleasure, until, forgetting the landscape, she turned to
him with a clinging movement, and hid her face upon his breast. Her
heart, her life, her being, were all his, and he knew it. She loved him
intensely.

"Something may be allowed to a starved man," he had said, the first time
they were alone together after his arrival, his eyes dwelling fondly on
her sweet face. "Do not be careful any more, Anne; show me that you love
me. I have suffered, suffered, suffered, since those old days at
Caryl's."

On this June afternoon they lingered on the height until the sun sank
low in the west.

"We must go, Ward."

"Wait until it is out of sight."

They waited in silence until the gold rim disappeared. Then they turned
to each other.

"Your last day alone; to-morrow you will be my wife. Do you remember
when I asked you whether the whole world would not be well lost to us if
we could but have love and each other? We had love, but the rest was
denied. Now we have that also.... Anne, I was, and am still, an idle,
selfish fellow. Whatever change there has been or will be is owing to
you. For you love me so much, my darling, that you exalt me, and I for
very shame try to live up to it."

He looked at her, and she saw the rare tears in his eyes.

Then he brushed them away, smiled, and of