the
prize of mortals supremely blessed, had spent the fresh years of his
youth in monkish solitude. Now of a sudden came friends and flattery,
ay, and love itself. He was rapt to the seventh heaven.

Indeed, it seemed that the girl loved him. She knew that he had but a
hundred pounds or so left over from that little inheritance, that his
books sold for a trifle, that he had no wealthy relatives from whom he
could expect anything; yet she hesitated not a moment when he asked her
to marry him.

'I have loved you from the first.'

'How is that possible?' he urged. 'What is there lovable in me? I
am afraid of waking up and finding myself in my old garret, cold and
hungry.'

'You will be a great man.'

'I implore you not to count on that! In many ways I am wretchedly weak.
I have no such confidence in myself.'

'Then I will have confidence for both.'

'But can you love me for my own sake--love me as a man?'

'I love you!'

And the words sang about him, filled the air with a mad pulsing of
intolerable joy, made him desire to fling himself in passionate humility
at her feet, to weep hot tears, to cry to her in insane worship. He
thought her beautiful beyond anything his heart had imagined; her warm
gold hair was the rapture of his eyes and of his reverent hand. Though
slenderly fashioned, she was so gloriously strong. 'Not a day of illness
in her life,' said Mrs Yule, and one could readily believe it.

She spoke with such a sweet decision. Her 'I love you!' was a bond with
eternity. In the simplest as in the greatest things she saw his wish
and acted frankly upon it. No pretty petulance, no affectation of
silly-sweet languishing, none of the weaknesses of woman. And so
exquisitely fresh in her twenty years of maidenhood, with bright young
eyes that seemed to bid defiance to all the years to come.

He went about like one dazzled with excessive light. He talked as he had
never talked before, recklessly, exultantly, insolently--in the nobler
sense. He made friends on every hand; he welcomed all the world to his
bosom; he felt the benevolence of a god.

'I love you!' It breathed like music at his ears when he fell asleep
in weariness of joy; it awakened him on the morrow as with a glorious
ringing summons to renewed life.

Delay? Why should there be delay? Amy wished nothing but to become his
wife. Idle to think of his doing any more work until he sat down in the
home of which she was mistress. His brain burned w