hair. "See," he inurmured, "I am to be allowed to play with
this exquisite net to ensnare my heart; and you are not to be allowed to
spend hours in state rooms--alone! Oh! darling! How can I listen to
anything but the music of your whispers, when you tell me you love me
and are my very own!"

Zara did, however, finally get him to understand the whole history from
beginning to end. And when he heard of her unhappy life, and her
mother's tragic story, and her sorrow and poverty, and her final reason
for agreeing to the marriage, and how she thought of men, and then of
him, and all her gradual awakening into this great love, there grew in
him a reverent tenderness.

"Oh! my sweet--my sweet!" he said. "And I dared to be suspicious of you
and doubt you, it seems incredible now!"

Then he had to tell his story--of how reasonable his suspicions looked,
and, in spite of them, of his increasing love. And so an hour passed
with complete clearing up of all shadows, and they could tenderly smile
together over the misunderstandings which had nearly caused them to ruin
both their lives.

"And to think, Tristram," said Zara, "a little common sense would have
made it all smooth!"

"No, it was not that," he answered fondly, with a whimsical smile in his
eyes, "the troubles would never have happened at all if I had only not
paid the least attention to your haughty words in Paris, nor even at
Dover, but had just continued making love to you; all would have been
well!--However," he added joyously, "we will forget dark things, because
to-morrow I shall take you back to Wrayth, and we shall have our real
honeymoon there in perfect peace."

And, as her lips met his, Zara whispered softly once more,

_"Tu sais que je t'aime!"_

* * * * *

Oh! the glorious joy of that second home-coming for the bridal pair! To
walk to all Tristram's favorite haunts, to wander in the old rooms, and
plan out their improvements, and in the late afternoons to sit in the
firelight in his own sitting-room, and make pictures of their future
joys together. Then he would tell her of his dreams, which once had
seemed as if they must turn to Dead Sea fruit, but were now all bright
and glowing with glad promise of fulfillment.

His passionate delight in her seemed as if it could not find enough
expression, as he grew to know the cultivation of her mind and the pure
thoughts of her soul.--And her tenderness to him was all the swee