t
for ever.

"Elsie," he whispered, "Elsie, won't you try to care for me? Won't you
come to me and help me to live my life in the right way? I want a wife's
help and a wife's love. Elsie, come!"

She made a slight movement towards him. His arms were round her in an
instant, his warm lips pressed to hers; and in the supreme felicity of
that moment, time, place, circumstances, were all forgotten. They had
passed together into that earthly paradise whose gates are still opened
to some favoured mortals in this vale of tears.

"Hilloo! Hilloo!"

It was old Giles's voice, hoarse as a raven's; and although it startled
them rudely, it was a welcome sound. Elsie went into the hut to rouse
Jamie as gently as she could, and Arnold listened to Giles's explanation
of his arrival.

He had been at the landing-stage waiting for his master's return, when a
couple of lads came rowing in with the empty boat. They were fishing on
the river, and had found it adrift and captured it. So Giles, guessing
what had happened, had pulled off to the island without a moment's
delay.

Jamie, a little cross and very sleepy, was taken home to his bed at The
Cedars in a half-awake condition; and afterwards Elsie and Arnold
strolled along Miss Ryan's garden in the gloaming, the happiest pair of
lovers that ever saw the moon rise over Rushbrook in silent peace.

"Something told me that the day would have a good ending," said Mrs.
Lennard, as she wished Elsie good-night.

CHAPTER XIX

_CONCLUSION_

"And now those vivid hours are gone,
Like mine own life to me thou art.
Where past and present, wound in one,
Do make a garland for the heart."
--TENNYSON.

It was the evening of the day after the picnic, and all Rushbrook had
already heard the news. The Danforths had heard it in the morning from
Arnold himself, and Mrs. Verdon had heard it in the afternoon from the
Danforths.

Katherine Verdon was an unemotional woman. She did not feel in the least
inclined to go into hysterics or make bitter speeches. Mrs. Tell, who
watched her narrowly, could not detect the slightest change in her
demeanour. She remarked that Miss Kilner was very pretty--really quite
beautiful--and no one could be surprised at the turn that things had
taken.

"I don't know," replied her sister-in-law; "I confess I am surprised. He
ought to have married somebody in a better position."

"Oh, her position is good enough,"