safety. If he had moved, it
must have been to clasp her in his arms.

At last she rose to her feet and began to put the music in order. It was
a moment when life, for each of them, seemed very hard. And yet, to one
who looked and saw them so, it seemed as if the best that earth could
offer might be theirs, and that they were made and fashioned to have and
to enjoy it.

The pretty room was a soft glow of firelight and lamplight mingled. The
rich harmonies of dark color made by carpets, hangings and furniture
were lighted here and there by an infinite number of the charming little
things that are the perfecting touches of a tasteful room. A bunch of
freshly-gathered autumn leaves was massed under the light from the
shaded lamp. Near by sat Christine. She had taken up a strip of gorgeous
embroidery in her hands, and was bending above it and trying hard to put
her stitches in with care. To-night there was a steady flush in her
cheeks that made her look more beautiful than he had ever seen her. He
advanced a step or two, and stood, unseen, at a little distance from
her, making unconsciously a complement to the picture. He took a step
forward--and she heard the sound and lifted her head. He came nearer and
his voice was sweet and thrilling as he said her name:

"Christine."

She raised her eyes and looked at him; but they dropped before his
steady gaze, and she did not answer.

"Let me speak to you a little, dear Christine," he went on, taking a
seat near her. He had himself well in hand and was determined not to
blunder. Christine sat opposite and drew her needle through and through,
saying neither yes nor no. "I want to be very careful not to hurt you,"
Noel went on, "but I have had it on my mind a long, long time to talk to
you about yourself. Do you intend to lead always, without change or
variation, the isolated, dull, restricted life you are leading now?"

"Oh, don't speak to me of any change!" she said entreatingly. "You have
been so good to me. Be good to me still. Let me stay here, as I am, in
this heaven of rest and peace. Mrs. Murray will keep me. She is not
tired of me. She loves to have me, and it is my one idea of blessedness
and comfort and rest."

Her voice was agitated almost to tears, and she had dropped her work and
clasped her hands together with a piteousness of appeal.

"No one will hinder you, Christine," he said. "Mrs. Murray is made
better and brighter and happier by your presence every day,