May did not speak. Her head dropped, and she slightly turned it aside, but Webster could, still see the delicate profile. "You know how long I have wished this," went on Webster, earnestly; "almost from the first time I saw you I loved you--we were parted--" "Hush, hush," said May, in a low, trembling voice, "it is too soon to speak of such a thing--even to think of it--" "But I can not help thinking of it." "I--I--can never repay you," continued May in faltering accents. "Do not think I forget because I do not speak of the past--but for you--" "You can repay me a hundred-fold, if there were anything to repay, which there is not, by giving me, before I leave you, the hope, even the faintest hope, that you will not quite forget me in my absence." "I can never forget you." Webster stooped down and kissed her hand. "For the present I will try to be content, then," he said; "but remember, May, that I think of you every day and hour of my life." Nothing more was said at the time; one of the boys rushed into the room, wanting, of course, something from his sister, and May was never again alone with Webster until he left. But she did not forget his words. In the spring she went up to town for a short visit to Miss Webster, and there she saw him constantly and at last--after a year of widowhood--she promised "some day" to be his wife. But two whole years passed after John Temple's tragic death before she would consent to marry. By this time Webster had entered Parliament, having won one of the by-elections, and in his profession he was striding on apace. A busy, active, ambitious man; strong and faithful in all things, and most faithful to his love. They were married by Mr. Layton, but Mrs. Layton could scarcely suppress the bitterness of her tongue on the occasion. "It will be a lord the next time," she whispered to one of the spectators; but from motives of prudence the moment the ceremony was over, she rushed up to the newly-married pair and heartily congratulated them. As for the Misses Webster, they were so overjoyed that they wept copiously--especially Miss Eliza--during the whole of the marriage service. Then they too hurried up to kiss the sweet, grave face of the bride, and May tenderly embraced them both. "You have been my truest friends," she whispered, "except Ralph." Mr. Churchill was also delighted with the match, and now superintends the whole of his young grandson's property, receiving, we may be sure, a handsome income for doing so. The boys, too, are having first-rate educations, and the whole family are prosperous and well.