hen I saw you coming over the meadows?"

"Keep it--and I'll keep something I have of yours."

"Of mine? Where did you get anything of mine? Surely it isn't the
peppered rosebud?"

"Oh, no. I've had it nearly seven years."

"Seven years!" She exclaimed in genuine surprise. "And whatever have you
had of mine I'd like to know that has kept seven years? It's neither
silver nor gold--for I've little of either; not that silver or gold can
make a man happy," she added quickly, fearing he might be sensitive to
her speech.

"No; I've learned that, Aileen, thank God!"

"What is it then?--tell me quick."

He thrust his hand into the workman's blouse and drew forth a small
package, wrapped in oiled silk and sewed to a cord that was round his
neck. He opened it.

Aileen bent to examine it, her eyes straining in the increasing dusk.

"Why, it's never--it's not my handkerchief!--Champney!"

"Yes, yours, Aileen--that night in all the horror and despair, I heard
something in your voice that told me you--didn't hate me--"

"Oh, Champney!"

"Yes. I've kept it ever since--I asked permission to take it in with
me?--I mean into my cell. They granted it. It was with me night and
day--my head lay on it at night; I got my first sleep so--and it went
with me to work during the day. It's been kissed clean thin till it's
mere gossamer; it helped, that and the work, to save my brain--"

She caught handkerchief and hand in both hers and pressed her lips to
them again and again.

"And now I'm going to keep it, after you're mine in the sight of man, as
you are now before God; put it away and keep it for--" He stopped short.

"For whom?" she whispered.

He drew her close to him--closer and more near.

"Aileen, my beloved," his voice was earnestly joyful, "I am hoping for
the blessing of children--are you?--"

"Except for you, my arms will feel empty for them till they come--"

"Oh, my wife--my true wife!--now I can tell you all!" he said, and the
earnest note was lost in purest joy. He whispered:

"You know, dear, I'm but half a man, and must remain such. I am no
citizen, have no citizen's rights, can never vote--have no voice in all
that appeals to manhood--my country--"

"I know--I know--" she murmured pityingly.

"And so I used to think there in my cell at night when I kissed the
little handkerchief--Please God, if Aileen still loves me when I get
out, if she in her loving mercy will forgive to the extent that she will
be