penitence.

'But not--not because of my displeasure,' she answered; a little too
gaily for the gaiety to be quite real.

'Ah, then!' he said, catching at this ark of perfect safety, which
looked like a straw to his love-blinded eyes, 'you are not displeased?'

'No,' she answered lightly, still playing with him, now she felt so
sure of him, and inwardly melting and yearning over him; 'I am not
displeased.'

'But are you pleased?' said he, growing bolder.' Are you pleased that I
came because you came--because I------?'

There he paused, and she took a demure look at him. He burst out all at
once in a whisper--

'Because I love you?'

She did not answer him; but when next she looked at him he saw that the
tears had gathered thickly in her lovely eyes.

'You are not pained at that,' he said. 'I have loved you ever since that
day you were at my place in Surrey, when you came down with Jimmy, and
my poor old dad was there.'

'Yes,' she said, looking up again, and smiling through the dimness of
her eyes, 'I know.'

And so it came about that, when Leland Senior awoke, Barndale held a
conference with him, which terminated in a great shaking of hands. There
was another conference between Lilian and her mother, which ended, as it
began, in tears, and kisses, and smiles. Tears, and kisses, and smiles
made a running accompaniment to that second conference, and tender
embraces broke in upon it often. It was settled between them all--papa,
and mamma, and the lovers--that they should finish the journey together,
and that the marriage should be solemnised a year after their arrival
at home. It goes without saying that Barndale looked on this delay with
very little approval. But Leland Senior insisted on it stoutly, and
carried his point. And even in spite of this the young people were
tolerably happy. They were together a good deal, and, in the particular
stage at which they had arrived, the mere fact of being together is a
bliss and a wonder. Leigh Hunt--less read in these days than he deserves
to be--sings truly--

Heaven's in any roof that covers On any one same night two lovers.

They went about in a state of Elysian beatitude, these young people.
Love worked strange metamorphoses, as he does always. They found new
joys in Tennyson, and rejoiced in the wonderful colours of the waves. I
am not laughing at them for these things. I first read Tennyson when I
was in love, and liked him, and understood him a great deal be