such as I
have always seen you wear."

With inward astonishment and congratulation Georgiana thought of all the
dyed and reconstructed "Semi-Annuals" which had marched in a frugal
procession across his vision during the past year. Suddenly she felt an
affection for the very frock she wore, difficult as had been its
achievement from the materials in hand. Certainly, women in beautiful
and wonderful clothing, such as he saw daily, had had no chance with him
against the attraction of herself in the cleverly adapted makeshifts of
her own fingers. It was the girl who had made the most of herself and
her home out of her restricted means who had drawn to her side this man
whose judgment must approve his love or he could never love at all.

Things hadn't been so unequal after all. The wise God, who had set her
life thus far in the midst of poverty, had given her with which to fight
it the wit and resource which fashion weapons out of materials which
more favoured mortals cast away. That greatest of gifts bestowed upon
the daughters of men had been hers--the creative touch. At last she
recognized it, and knew it for what it was. Using this good gift she had
learned other things than the making of clothes!

A great warm surge of joy and understanding enveloped Georgiana Warne as
Jefferson Craig, having led her into the dining-room and placed her
ceremoniously in her chair, bent over her where she sat, saying softly:

"This place has been waiting a long time at the bachelor's board. Now
that I see it filled--like this--I know how well worth while it's been
to wait."

He took the place opposite her. With a nod at the boy Thomas, he
dismissed him for the moment. He looked across the table, rich with the
finest appointments in his house, arranged by a housekeeper who heartily
approved his everyday simplicity of life, but who exulted to-night in
the chance to show the lady of his choice the fine old heirlooms of
silver and damask which were to come to her. Smiling, he lifted a
delicately chased goblet of water which stood beside his plate.

"To my wife!" he said.

Georgiana, raising the face of a rose, took up her own glass. She looked
at it a moment, her eyes like dark twin fires, her lips taking on lovely
curves. Then she lifted it toward the man opposite.

"To--_you_!"

"Still afraid?" asked Jefferson Craig, watching her as one watches only
that which is the delight of his eyes. "Never mind; I'll teach you by
and by the