She was almost afraid to read it lest the letter itself should contradict the promise which the last words of it had seemed to convey to her.

She went up to the window and stood there gazing out upon the gravel road, with her hand containing the letter pressed upon her heart.

Lady Fawn had told her that she was preparing for herself inexpressible misery;--and now there had come to her joy so absolutely inexpressible! "A man to tell you that he loves you, and yet not ask you to be his wife!" She repeated to herself Lady Fawn's words,--and then those other words, "Yours ever and always, if you will have me!" Have him, indeed! She threw from her, at once, as vain and wicked and false, all idea of coying her love.

She would leap at his neck if he were there, and tell him that for years he had been almost her god.

And of course he knew it.