low voices lest Mr. Penny's vocal slumbers should
be disturbed; how Marjorie told the short and simple story of her
life, to Kalman all wonderful; how Kalman told the story of his
life, omitting parts, and how Marjorie's tender eyes overflowed
and her rosy cheeks grew pale and her hand crept toward his arm
as he told the tragedy of his mother's death; how she described
with suppressed laughter the alarms of her dear Aunt Janet that
morning--was it a month ago?--how he told of Jack French, what
a man he was and how good; how she spoke of her father and his
strength and his tenderness, and of how he spoiled her, against
which Kalman vehemently protested; how he told of Brown and his
work for the poor ignorant Galicians, and of the songs they sang
together; how she made him sing, at first in undertones soft and
low, lest poor Mr. Penny's sleep should be broken, and then in
tones clear and full, the hymns in which Brown and French used to
join, and then, in obedience to her peremptory commands, his own
favourite Hungarian love-song, of which he shyly told her; how her
eyes shone like stars, her cheeks paled, and her hands held fast
to each other in the ecstasy of her rapture while he told her what
it all meant, at first with averted looks, and then boldly pouring
the passion of his soul into her eyes, till they fell before the
flame in his as he sang the refrain,

"While the flower blooms in the meadow,
And fishes swim the sea,
Heart of my heart, soul of my soul,
I'll love and live for thee";

how then shyness fell on her and she moved ever so little to her
own side of the fire; how he, sensitive to her every emotion, rose
at once to build the fire, telling her for the first time then of
his wonderful discovery, which he had clean forgot; how together
on tiptoe they examined, with heads in close proximity and voices
lowered to a whisper, the black seam that ran down a side of the
cave; how they discussed the possible value of it and what it might
mean to Kalman; and then how they fell silent again till Kalman
commanded her to bed, to which she agreed only upon condition
that he should rouse Mr. Penny when his watch should be over; how
she woke in broad daylight to find him with breakfast ready, the
blizzard nearly done, and the sun breaking through upon a wonderful
world, white and fairylike; how they vainly strove to simulate an
ease of manner, to forget some of the things that happened the