ould put any faith in them."

"I don't, though I admit that my views about such matters are changing.
You know I used to be sure that when we die everything is over with us.
Now I think differently, why I cannot say."

Then the subject dropped, because really they were both wrapped in the
great joy of a glorious hour and disinclined to dwell upon fancies
about a woman who had died five hundred years ago, or on metaphysical
speculations. Also the fear of what might follow upon that hour haunted
them more vividly than any hovering ghost, if such there were.

"My dear," said Isobel, "I am sorry, but I must say it; I am sure that
there will be trouble about this business."

"No doubt, Isobel; there always is trouble, at least where I am
concerned; also one can't be happy without paying. But what does it
matter so long as we stick to each other? Soon we shall both be of age
and can do what we like."

"One always thinks that, Godfrey, and yet, somehow, one never can. Free
will is a fraud in that sense as in every other."

"I have something, as you know, enough with my pay to enable us to get
on, even if you were disinherited, dear, though, of course, you could
not live as you have been accustomed to do."

"Oh! don't talk to me of money," she said impatiently, "though for the
matter of that, I have something, too, a little that comes to me from
my mother. Money won't divide us, Godfrey."

"Then what will, Isobel?"

"Nothing in the long run," she answered with conviction, "not even
death itself, since in a way we are one and part of each other and
therefore cannot be separated for always, whatever happens for a while,
as I am sure that something will happen which will make you leave me."

"I swear that I will never leave you, I will die with you first," he
exclaimed, springing up.

"Such oaths have been made often and broken--before the dawn," she
answered, smiling and shaking her head.

"I swear that I will always love you," he went on.

"Ah! now I believe you, dear!" she broke in again. "However badly you
may behave, you will always love me because you must."

"Well, and will you always love me however badly I behave?"

"Of course," she answered simply, "because I must. Oh! whatever we may
hear about each other, we may be quite certain that we still love each
other--because we must--and all your heaven and hell cannot make any
difference, no, not if they were both to join forces and try their
best. But that