ust ourselves once in awhile."

Martin gave a guffaw.

"Joan," he said, "you ought to be sent to bed. Your eyes are too big and
your colour too high. Stop this foolishness and let us take a turn on
the river road. The moonlight is filling it--it's too rare to be
overlooked."

So they went out, keeping together and talking happily until it was time
to return to the house; there, Raymond managed to say to Joan, just as
they were parting:

"This has been rather a shock, you know, I wish I could see you
alone--for a moment."

She looked up at him, and all the mad daring was gone from her eyes.

"Is there anything to say?" she whispered. "Now or--ever?"

"Yes."

And Raymond knew that Joan would come back.

He sat on the broad porch, opening to The Gap, and smoked. The house
grew still with that holy quietness that holds all love safe.

Then came a slight noise; someone was coming!

It was significant that Raymond should know at once who it was. All the
love and yearning in the world would not have drawn Nancy through the
sleeping house to him. The knowledge made him smile grimly, happily.

Doris, once having said good-night, meant it, and Martin had gone to his
bungalow.

"Well--here I am." Joan appeared and sat down, looking as if she were
doing the most commonplace thing in life. It was the old daring that had
led to dangerous ways.

"Is it--safe?"

"Why not?" It was the same frank, childlike look.

"But--Nancy; your Aunt----"

Joan twisted her mouth humorously.

"We'll have to risk them--you said you had something to say."

"Joan! Good Lord! but it's great to have a name to call you by--you
drove me pretty hard to-night. I make no complaint--except----" He
paused.

"For Nancy?" Joan asked.

"Yes! Joan, she's wonderful. She's the sort that makes a man rather
afraid until he realizes that he means to keep her as she is--forever."
This was spoken with a definiteness of purpose that made Joan recoil.
Again he was defending Nancy from what he had believed Joan to have
been!

"I wonder"--she looked away--"I wonder if any one could do that? Or if
it would be wise if he could?"

"Joan, when I saw you to-night, after the shock--I could have fallen on
my knees in gratitude--there have been hours when the fear I had about
you nearly drove me crazy; made me feel I had no right--to Nancy."

"So you--did remember, for a little time?"

"Yes. I went to the Brier Bush--Miss Gordon gave me to understand th