to have asked again; to have sought through the
whole world till I found you again. And now that I have found you--"

"Hush! The girls are here."

They came along laughing, that merry group--with whom life was at its
spring--who had lost nothing, knew not what it was to lose!

"Good-night," said Mr. Roy, hastily. "But--to-morrow morning?"

"Yes."

"There never is night to which comes no morn," says the proverb. Which
is not always true, at least as to this world; but it is true sometimes.

That April morning Fortune Williams rose with a sense of strange
solemnity--neither sorrow nor joy. Both had gone by; but they had left
behind them a deep peace.

After her young people had walked themselves off, which they did
immediately after breakfast, she attended to all her household duties,
neither few nor small, and then sat down with her needle-work beside the
open window. It was a lovely day; the birds were singing, the leaves
budding, a few early flowers making all the air to smell like spring.
And she--with her it was autumn now. She knew it, but still she did not
grieve.

Presently, walking down the garden walk, almost with the same firm step
of years ago--how well she remembered it!--Robert Roy came; but it was
still a few minutes before she could go into the little parlor to meet
him. At last she did, entering softly, her hand extended as usual. He
took it, also as usual, and then looked down into her face, as he had
done that Sunday. "Do you remember this? I have kept it for seventeen
years."

It was her mother's ring. She looked up with a dumb inquiry.

"My love, did you think I did not love you?--you always, and only you?"

So saying, he opened his arms; she felt them close round her, just as in
her dream. Only they were warm, living arms; and it was this world, not
the next. All those seventeen bitter years seemed swept away,
annihilated in a moment; she laid her head on his shoulder and wept out
her happy heart there.

* * * * * *

The little world of St. Andrews was very much astonished when it
learned that Mr. Roy was going to marry, not one of the pretty Miss
Moseleys, but their friend and former governess, a lady, not by any
means young, and remarkable for nothing except great sweetness and
good sense, which made every body respect and like her; though nobody
was much excited concerning her. Now people had been excited about
Mr. Roy, and some were rathe