became of me, for when hope is gone all
is gone.

So I went to the copse before the time mentioned, and this was at ten
o'clock in the morning. As I have before stated, this was a lonely
place, only one cottage being near, and altogether shielded from the
gaze of men. As I said, I was early at the meeting-place, and I looked
eagerly around for Naomi's father, but no one was there. I waited until
after ten o'clock, and still no one came.

"This is but a ruse," I said bitterly; "this message came only to mock
me as others have come;" but even as this thought flashed through my
mind I heard the sound of footsteps on the frozen leaves, and turning I
saw, not John Penryn, but my love.

At first I was almost overcome at the sight of her, for I feared lest
something terrible should have happened to bring her instead of her
father, so I stood looking at her like one bereft of his senses.

"Won't you speak to me, Jasper?" she said, and then my heart jumped so
that I was less able to speak than before; but I opened my arms,
wondering all the time if I were not dreaming a beautiful dream.

Yes, she came to me, my darling, whom I despaired of ever seeing
again--she came shy and coy, I thought, but love was shining from her
eyes for all that.

"My little love!" I cried; "and so you have come at last," and I took
her in my great arms, my Naomi, the only maiden I ever did love, or ever
can love. For love comes but once--that is, such a love as mine. And her
head was nestled on my heart, just as a mother nestles the babe she
loves, and a joy, such as even I had never felt before, came to me that
wintry morning as the sun shone on the ice crystals.

There be men in these days who laugh at such a love as mine, but they
who do this have never entered into the secret of life's joy. I do not
expect to be understood by such, and my words to them will be but as a
sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal; but to those whose hearts have been
filled with a great absorbing love, I know that my tale will have a
meaning, simple as it may be, and badly, as I am afraid, it has been
told.

For some seconds my heart was too full to speak. After the weary days of
hopeless waiting, thus to enter into joy seemed to make words too poor
to tell what was in my heart.

Presently, however, I asked her questions as to what had happened since
I parted with her at the cottage by Mullion Sands, and she told me her
story. There was but little to tell however