ived that
hers were sparkling through tears, he spoke her name once,
twice--joyfully and yet doubtfully, as if he dared not interpret her
emotion as he would. She laid her left hand lightly on his which still
grasped her right, and said with a brilliant smile: "Welcome,
Constantine, welcome home! How glad I am to see you back again!"

"And I--and I . . . " he began, greatly moved.

"O Gorgo! Can it really be years since we parted?"

"Yes, indeed," she said. "Anxious, busy, struggling years!"

"But to-day we celebrate the festival of Peace," he exclaimed fervently.
"I have learnt to leave every man to go his own way so long as I am
allowed to go mine. The old strife is buried; take me as I am and I, for
my part, will think only of the noble and beautiful traits in which your
nature is so rich. The fruit of all wholesome strife must be peace; let
us pluck that fruit, Gorgo, and enjoy it together. Ah! as I stand here
and gaze out over the gardens and the lake, hearing the hammers of the
shipwrights, and rejoicing in your presence, I feel as though our
childhood might begin all over again--only better, fuller and more
beautiful!"

"If only my brothers were here!"

"I saw them."

"Oh! where?"

"At Thessalonica, well and happy--I have letters for you from them."

"Letters!" cried Gorgo, drawing away her hand. "Well, you are a tardy
messenger! Our houses are within a stone's throw, and yet in a whole day,
from noon till noon, so old a friend could not find a few minutes to
deliver the letters entrusted to him, or to call upon such near neighbors
. . ."

"First there were my parents," interrupted the young soldier. "And then
the tyrant military duty, which kept me on the stretch from yesterday
afternoon till an hour or two since. Romanus robbed me even of my sleep,
and kept me in attendance till the morn had set. However, I lost but
little by that, for I could not have closed my eyes till they had beheld
you! This morning again I was on duty, and rarely have I ridden to the
front with such reluctance. After that I was delayed by various details;
even on my way here--but for that I cannot be sorry for it gave me this
chance of finding you alone. All I ask now is that we may remain so, for
such a moment is not likely to be repeated.--There, I heard a door . . ."

"Come into the garden," cried Gorgo, signing to him to follow her. "My
heart is as full as yours. Down by the tank under the old sycamores--we
shall be qui