and in a minute more they stood inside the desolate
building, where strips of sunlight patched the floor. It was deserted.

"Well?" questioned John, as the girl looked all about.

"I thought it would be like this," she answered. "Can we get up higher?
There must be a fine view."

Dunham found a flight of steps in a corner, and climbed it, Sylvia
following.

The ramshackle old building had platforms rather than floors, leaving
space in the middle for the machinery which ran up through it, and
stairs led from one to another of these. These steps looked newer than
their surroundings. When the visitors had reached the next to the upper
floor, Dunham led Sylvia to a window, and together they exclaimed upon
the wide beauty of the great, open bay.

"Whoever owns this old mill owns a palace," said Sylvia. She placed her
hand lovingly on the edge of a hoary shutter. "Didn't I tell you it was
worth while to open your eyes, dear?"

She glanced at John, who was standing, tall and thoughtful, at the
other side of the window, watching her. She smiled with rather unsteady
lips. "You would laugh if you knew how much it means to me to be
standing in here," she said.

"Not more to you than to me, I am sure," he returned. "I've never
forgotten a fanciful thing you said about this mill last summer. You
said that Love would open the shutters some day. Listen, Sylvia, do you
hear that?"

Across the still water rang the woodland bells that preceded the
triumphant flourish of the thrush's song.

"I should like that for my wedding music," said Dunham slowly, after a
minute. "Those are the only bells that should chime upon my wedding if
I had my wish."

Sylvia's heart beat fast. She thought it cruel of him to look at her
like that.

He continued: "There is a spot over there in the woods near a thicket
of white birches that I have selected as the spot for the ceremony."

"Very poetical," returned Sylvia. "Such a plan suits this outlook."

"I see there are some more stairs," said Dunham, looking about. "Shall
we do the thing thoroughly? Let's go to the top."

He preceded the girl up the steep flight, and turned to give her his
hand for the last steps. Sylvia emerged upon a newly-placed floor, and
looked about her in a daze.

She glanced back at Dunham, then again her wondering eyes swept the
great apartment in which she found herself.

It was a studio, furnished with every convenience for an artist's work,
and many luxuries f