urselves his
children. Neither church, state, nor society requires lovers to swear
that they love passionately, but that they will love persistently by
virtue of a kinship made permanent in law."

Law! At that word Barbara inwardly winced, but Fair pressed on.

"These marriages on the American plan, of which we are so vain, are they
the only happy ones, and are they all happy? When they are, is it
because love began as a passion, or has it not been because the choice
was fortunate, and love, whether from a large or small beginning, has
grown, like that of Isaac and Rebecca, out of a union made stronger than
the ties of blood, by troth and oath? Barbara, do you not know in your
heart of hearts that if you were the wife of a husband, wisely but
dispassionately chosen, you would love him with a wife's full love as
long as he loved you? You do. You would."

Barbara was slow to reply, but presently she began, "Unless I could
commit my fate to one who already loved me consumingly----" She gave a
start of protestation as he exclaimed:

"I love you consumingly! O Barbara, Barbara Garnet, let that serve for
us both! Words could not tell my joy, if I could find in you this day a
like passion for me. But the seed and soil of it are here to my sight in
what I find you to be, and all I ask is that you will let reason fix the
only relationship that can truly feed the flame which I know--I
_know_--my love will kindle."

"O Mr. Fair, I begged you not to ask!"

"Do not answer! Not now; to-morrow morning. If you can't answer
then----"

"I can answer now, Mr. Fair. Why should I keep you in suspense?"

Such agitation came into the young man's face as Barbara had never
thought to see. His low voice quivered. "No! No! I beseech you not to
answer yet! Wait! Wait and weigh! O Barbara! weigh well and I will wait
well! Wait! O wait until you have weighed all things well--my fortune,
love, life, and the love of all who love me--O weigh them all well,
beloved! beloved one!"

Without warning, a grosbeak--the one whose breast is stained with the
blood of the rose--began his soft, sweet song so close overhead that
Barbara started up, and he flew. She waited to catch the strain again,
and as it drifted back her glance met her lover's. She smiled tenderly,
but was grave the next moment and said, "Let us go back."

Nevertheless they went very slowly, culling and exchanging wild flowers
as they went. On her doorstep she said, "Now, in the mor