"If you knew what I suffered when I read that notice!" pursued
Heathcote, without heeding her. "The world seemed all wrong then
forever. For there was something about you, Anne, which brought out what
small good there was in my worthless self, and young as you were, you
yet in one way ruled me. I might have borne the separation itself, but
the thought that any other man should call you wife was intolerable to
me. I had--I still have it--a peculiar feeling about you. In some
mysterious way you had come to be the one real faith of my life. I was
bitterly hurt and angry when you ran away from me; but angry as I was, I
still searched for you, and would have searched again if Helen had
not--But never mind that now. If I have loved you, Anne, you have loved
me just as dearly. And now you are here, and I am here, let us ask no
more questions, but just--be happy."

"But," said the girl, breathlessly, "Helen--?" Then she stopped.

Heathcote was watching her. She tried to be calm, but her lips trembled.
A little skill in deception now, poor Anne, would have been of saving
help. Heathcote still watched her in silence--watched her until at last
she turned toward him.

"Did you not know," he said, slowly meeting her eyes--"did you not know
that Helen was--married?"

"Married? And not to you?"

There was a perceptible pause. Then he answered. "Not to me."

A silence followed. A whirl of conflicting feelings filled Anne's heart;
she turned her face away, blushing deeply, and conscious of it. "I hope
she is happy," she murmured at last, striving to speak naturally.

"I think she is." Then he stretched out his hands and took hers. "Turn
this way, so that I can see you," he said, beseechingly.

She turned, and it seemed to him that eyes never beheld so exquisite a
face.

"My darling, do you love me? Tell me so. If I was not a poor sick
fellow, I should take you in my arms and draw your sweet face down upon
my shoulder. But, as it is--" He moved nearer, and tried to lift himself
upon his elbow.

There was a feebleness in the effort which went to Anne's heart. She
loved him so deeply! They were both free now, and he was weak and ill.
With a sudden impulse she drew nearer, so that his head could rest on
her shoulder. He silently put out his hand; she took it in hers; then he
closed his eyes as if content.

As for Anne, she felt an outburst of happiness almost too great to bear;
her breath came and went so quickly that Heathco