ways. Sometimes it has not
seemed worth while; the victories were so lonely and useless; but I
thanked God last night, when I saw your face as you danced, that I could
offer you a love that need not make the pitiful plea for mercy from your
love. Through temptation and the long fight it has always seemed to me
that no man should ask for pure love without the equivalent to offer in
return.

"Can you understand when I say that this battle of mine has brought me
closer to men and women, with no bitterness in my heart; has left me
free, not to despise them, but to help them?"

"Yes, oh, yes; all my life I could understand those who--fight. I, too,
have fought and fought."

Travers's hand was pressing upward the head against his knee so that he
could look in the uplifted eyes.

"My love! as free man and woman, let us give ourselves to each other!"

Then he bent and kissed the smiling mouth.

"Speak to me, my--wife."

"Yes! But let me think, dear heart. I must speak; the half has only been
told." She moved a bit away from him. Travers let her go with no fear.

"Now, strange little thing, since you cannot speak in my arms, have your
will!" he whispered.

"There is a to-morrow." The even voice had no strain of pain or sorrow in
it. "And we must not forget that. We have played and played until we have
made ourselves believe--such wonderful things; but to-morrow--we will
wake up and be what we have been made! I have heard, oh! so many people,
tell of your future, your honours. I have seen Doctor Ledyard's eyes upon
you; I know you have a mother who adores you. I do not know your world; I
could not touch your place but to mar it, and, because I love you so--oh!
so absolutely, and because I would want, and must have, glory in my own
love--we must stop playing! We have not"--and now the eyes dimmed--"we
have not played for keeps!"

"You poor, little girl! How you use the old, foolish arguments, thinking
yourself--wise. Do you imagine I could let you dim the sacred thing that
has come to us--by such idle prating? There are only you and I and--the
future. You darling child, come here!"

In reaching toward her, Travers's foot pressed too heavily against the
stone upon which she sat; it moved, slipped, and Priscilla escaped his
clutch. Not realizing her danger, she smiled up at him radiantly. She
meant what she had said, but youth could not relinquish its rights
without a struggle, and his eyes were so heavenly kind.

"My