taken out of my reach is
really the best thing that could happen to me."

"And you have left any wish I might have about it outside your
calculation," said May.

"It cannot signify to you where you live. You will amuse yourself
wherever you are."

"It signifies considerably; as I like Rudham, at present, better than
any place in the world."

Paul broke into an incredulous laugh.

"I suppose it would be an impertinence to ask your reason for this
unaccountable preference?"

"It is a simple one: you live there," said May, with averted face.

Paul sprang to his feet and stood before May with arms folded, and
looked down at her with eyes that literally burned.

"May!" he said hoarsely, "if it is a joke it is a cruel one."

"Oh, it's true that you have grown stupid!" cried May, between laughter
and tears. "It is no joke to have to tell you that I have changed my
mind. I love you better than all the world besides."

With an incoherent cry Paul clasped her to his breast.

"My darling! my darling!" he said, after the rapture of that first
moment, "I am not worthy, and the sacrifice on your side is too great.
I had no right ever to ask you to marry me. What will the world say of
me? I could wish that you had no fortune----"

"Oh, nonsense! you were groaning for want of it just now. It is my
own, to do as I like with; and I shall have a lot more, some day,
unless mother disinherits me."

"Which reminds me that I have to face her," said Paul, rather ruefully.

"I think you had better go at once," said May, with merry decision,
"and leave mother to me. I don't pretend she will like it; but she may
consent, as she has been grievously worried by the fear that I was
going to be an old maid--and so I should have been but for you."

Paul tried to repossess himself of her hands, but May had glided back
to the drawing-room, turning as she left to tell him to call again in
the morning. Left to himself, Paul tried to collect his thoughts, and
to realize the intense happiness that had come to him. If it were true
that May loved him, he would marry her in the face of all opposition,
for she knew well enough that he did not care for her money, but for
herself. Then he fell again to wondering whether she had sufficiently
counted the cost of uniting her life with his, for, in marrying, Paul
felt it would be impossible for him to change the whole scheme of his
life. His objects and ambitions would be the same after it