s half won,--more than half: he had only to go on to the
royal fruition of hope and patience. She no longer shunned him: she
dropped that pointed, distant "Mr. Darcy," and in the soul's own
language, gave him no outward name.

And, when he took her at her royal flood-tide, the words of asking and
answering mattered little. A look, a tone, a clasp of hands, a last
struggle of her pride, and she was his.

The wide, warm summer night closed about them: the dusk was rich with
floating dewy perfumes, and golden stars dazzled in the clear, moonless
sky. Out in the trees a little bird, startled from her nap, sang a
brief, sweet song to her little ones. He drew the proud yet yielding
figure closer: their hearts beat, their flushed cheeks touched, their
lips met in one long, heavenly caress, their hands clasped until pulse
throbbed with pulse in impassioned unison.

Only a death and a great love can so change the aspect of life. As in
the grave lies buried the dearest promises of love, hope, existence
itself, and we learn in time to cling to every faint dream, so, like a
resurrection, love sweeps away the sins and follies and weaknesses of
the past, and rises from the dust and ashes transformed, renewed, nay,
born again to the most sacred purposes.

A strange, swift impression rushed over her as she met the eager,
intense eyes. Was it in another world these arms had closed about her
with their strong, restful clasp? She started abruptly: she seemed to
listen, to puzzle herself with the bewildering impression.

"What is it, my darling?" in a deep, ardent voice.

"I don't know"--with a nervous laugh and shiver. "Have we met in some
other country? Did you carry me over mountains, or through valleys, or
hide me from a storm? Was this why I could never get away, try as I
might?"

Oh the wordless, entreating beauty of those eyes!

"My queen, my own, you will never try again."

"Never!" with a long, delicious, sobbing breath. "Why are you so
irresistibly, so powerfully strong, Jack? Do you know,--you _must_ know
how wicked I have been! If you cast me out, it would only be a proper
punishment. I don't mean that my lips or my hands are blurred with other
men's kisses. I never could endure that," shuddering. "But they laid
down their hearts, and I walked over them: they were weak, and I was
strong! And one night I tried"--her voice sank to a beseeching,
half-shamed murmur.

"Yes," he gave a pure, genial laugh, rich in his own