all my being,"
she murmured, even the fair young beauty of her face eclipsed by the
light from the soul within. He saw then what he had seen before--how
deep was her love for him. But this time there was in it no fear; only
perfect trust.

He turned his head away as if struggling with some hidden emotion. But
Anne, recovering herself, fell back into her former content, and began
to talk with the child-like ease of happiness. She told him of her life,
all that had happened since their parting. Once or twice, when her story
approached their past, and she made some chance inquiry, he stopped her.
"Do not ask questions," he said; "let us rest content with what we
have;" and she, willing to follow his fancy, smiled and refrained. He
lay silently watching her as she talked. Her faith in him was absolute;
it was part of her nature, and he knew her nature. It was because she
was what she was that he had loved her, when all the habits and purposes
of his life were directly opposed to it.

"Anne," he said, "when will you marry me?"

"Whenever you wish," she answered, with what was to him the sweetest
expression of obedience that a girl's pure eyes ever held.

"Will you go with me, as soon as I am able, and let some clergyman in
the nearest village marry us?"

"I would rather have Miss Lois come, and little Andre; still, Ward, it
shall be as you wish."

[Illustration: "WEAK, HOLDING ON BY THE TREES."]

He took her hand, and laid his hot cheek upon it; a moisture gathered in
his eyes. "You trust me entirely. You would put your hand in mine
to-night and go out into the world with me unquestioning?"

"Yes."

"Kiss me once, love--just once more." His face was altering; its faint
color had faded, and a brown pallor was taking its place.

"You are tired," said Anne, regretfully; "I have talked to you too
long." What he had said made no especial impression upon her; of course
she trusted him.

"Kiss me," he said again; "only once more, love." There was a strange
dulled look in his eyes; she missed the expression which had lain there
since the avowal of the day before. She turned; there was no one in
sight--the women had gone to the end of the garden. She bent over and
kissed him with timid tenderness, and as her lips touched his cheek,
tears stole from his eyes under the closed lashes. Then, as steps were
approaching, he turned his face toward the wall, and covered his eyes
with his hand. She thought that he was tired, that