him neck-deep, he knew it was
Aspatria! He was cross with Sarah. He accused her of downright
deception. He told her frankly that he believed nothing about the
soldier and his sister.

She bade him come in the morning and talk to Ria; and he asked
impetuously: "How soon? Twelve, I suppose? How am I to pass the time
until twelve to-morrow?"

"Why this haste?"

"Why this deception?"

"After seven years' indifference, are you suddenly gone mad?"

"I feel as if I was being very badly used."

"How does the real Aspatria feel? Go at once to Ambar-Side."

"The real Aspatria is here. I know it! I feel it!"

"In a court of law, what evidence would feeling be?"

"In a court of love--"

"Try it."

"I will, to-morrow, at ten o'clock."

His impetuosity pleased her. She was disposed to leave him to Aspatria
now. And Aspatria was disposed on the following morning to make his
confession very easy to him. She dressed herself in the simple black
gown she had kept ready for this event. It had the short elbow
sleeves, and the ruffle round the open throat, and the daffodil
against her snowy breast, that distinguished the first costume he had
ever seen her in. She loosened her hair and let it fall in two long
braids behind her ears. She was, as far as dress could make her so,
the Aspatria who had held the light to welcome him to Ambar-Side that
stormy night ten years ago.

He was standing in the middle of the room, restless and expectant,
when she opened the door. He called her by name, and went to meet her.
She trembled and was silent.

"Aspatria, it is you! My Life! My Soul! It is you!"

He took her hands; they were as cold as ice. He drew her close to his
side; he stooped to see her eyes; he whispered word upon word of
affection,--sweet-meaning nouns and adjectives that caught a real
physical heat from the impatient heart and tongue that forged and
uttered them.

"Forgive me, my dearest! Forgive me fully! Forgive me at once and
altogether! Aspatria, I love you! I love none but you! I will adore
you all my life! Speak one word to me, one word, my love, one word:
say only 'Ulfar!'"

She forgot in a moment all that she had suffered. She forgot all she
had promised Sarah, all her intents of coldness, all reproaches; she
forgot even to forgive him. She just put her arms around his neck and
kissed him. She blotted out the past forever in that one whispered
word, "Ulfar."

And then he took her to his heart; he kissed he