ear struck him and he
turned a little pale.

But the next moment he controlled himself; 'twas indeed as if he
himself called the receding blood back to his heart, and he took her
hand and held it in both his own, smiling.

"I have waited so long," he pleaded, caressingly. "I pray you--in
Love's name."

And it was but like her, he thought, that she should rise at this and
stand before him, her hand laid upon her breast, her great eyes opening
upon him in appeal, as if she were some tender culprit standing at
judgment bar.

"In Love's name!" she cried, in a low, panting voice. "Oh, Love should
_give_ so much. A woman's treasury should be so filled with rich jewels
of fair deeds that when Love comes she may pour them at his feet. And
what have I--oh, what have I?"

He moved towards her with a noble gesture, and she came nearer and
laid one hand upon his breast and one upon his shoulder, her uplifted
face white as a lily from some wild emotion, and imploring him--the
thought coming to him made him tremble--as some lost, helpless child
might implore.

"Is there aught," she panted, "_aught_ that could come between your
soul and mine?" And she was trembling, and her voice trembled and her
lips, and crystal drops on her lashes which, in quivering, fell.
"Think," she whispered; "your Grace, _think_."

And then a storm swept over him, a storm of love as great as that first
storm of frenzy and despair. And he cried out in terror at the thought
that Fate might plan some trick to cheat him yet, after the years--the
years of lost, lost life, spent as in gyves of iron.

"Great God! No! No!" he cried; "I am a man and you are the life of me!
I come to you not as other men, who love and speak their passion. Mine
has been a burden hidden and borne so long. It woke at sight of a
child, it fed on visions of a girl; before I knew its power it had
become my life. The portals of my prison are open and I see the sun.
Think you I will let them be closed--be _closed_ again?"

And he would not be withheld and swept her to his breast, and she,
lying there, clung to him with a little sobbing cry of joy and
gratefulness, uttering wild, sweet, low, broken words.

"I am so young," she said. "Life is so strong; the world seems _full_
of flowers. Sure some of them are mine. My heart beats so--it so beats.
Forgive! forgive!"

"Tis from to-day our life begins," he whispered, solemnly. "And God so
deal with me, Heart, as I shall deal with you