le heart to my keeping. But not quite yet.

"A little longer," she pleaded. "Let me feel somewhat more sure of
myself before--"

"And how much longer, then, Jessie?"

"Till Christmas, George. When Christmas comes, I will either be all
your own, or will send you away forever. Will not that do?"

"It must, perforce, if I cannot gain better terms," I answered; and I
returned once more to my city life. It was my fixed intention to
remain there resolutely until the Christmas morning itself had come;
but at last, unable to maintain the suspense, I stole back to the
beach once more. It was now only two days from the time. The air was
colder, of course, so that Jessie no longer took her place outside
upon the rock; but we could sit and talk in the shelter of the
lighthouse door, undisturbed by old Barkstead, who usually fretted and
moped out of sight, about half way up the shaft.

"Only two days more, dear Jessie," I said, "and then-- Will it be well
with me, do you think?"

"I think--I begin to think it will be well," she said, looking away.

"Then, if so you think, why should you longer delay your choice?" I
pleaded.

"Nay, George, it is only two days more. Let it, then, remain as first
we said, and we shall be the better satisfied at having held out to
the proper end."

Gaining nothing more from her, but feeling, in my own mind, well
assured of ultimate success, I prepared to depart. Not to return to
the city, indeed, for that would scarcely be worth while for such a
little interval--but to the Penguin Light, where Barry Somers, as
usual, had a place ready for me. But, as I was leaving, a sudden idea
struck me--a wild, foolish fancy, it might be--yet, coming, as it did,
with a certain investiture of originality, it fastened itself firmly
and tenaciously upon me, and with animation I returned upon my steps.

"Listen, dear Jessie!" I said. "Until Christmas morning, therefore, I
will not see you again, for I do not wish thus vainly to renew my
pleadings, and it will be pleasanter to know that when I meet you once
more, it will be with sweet confession on your lips, and the
permission to look upon you thenceforward as my own. But still, while
we are thus separated, can we not commune together?"

"How, George?"

"With the lights, dear Jessie. See here, now! Mark how easily we can
arrange our signalling, so that, across the intervening miles, we can
flash our secret intelligence, and no one but ourselves be the wise