"Never compliment a critic. It makes them more severe." "I could do so much better if you were in New York." "What! Do you expect me to go into the newspaper business?" "You are in it now--you are guiding me. You are the inspiration of my best work, and you know it." We had now reached a point where the lane wound through a hemlock grove. My hope was glad and strong, but I resolved at once to remove all shadow of fear, and I shrank from further probation. Therefore I stopped decisively, and said in a voice that faltered not a little: "Emily, our light words are but ripples that cover depths which in my case reach down through life and beyond it. You are my fate. I knew it the day I first met you. I know it now with absolute conviction." She turned a little away from me and trembled. "Do you remember this?" I asked, and I took from my pocketbook the withered York and Lancaster rosebud. She gave it a dark glance, and her crimson face grew pale. "Too well," she replied, in a low tone. I threw it down and ground it under my heel; then, removing my hat, I said: "I am at your mercy. You are the stronger, and your foot is on my neck." She turned on me instantly, and her face was aflame with her eager imperious demand to know the truth. Taking both my hands in a tense, strong grasp, she looked into my eyes as if she would read my very soul. "Richard," she said, in a voice that was half entreaty, half command, "in God's name, tell me the truth--the whole truth. Do you respect me at heart? Do you trust me? Can you trust me as Mr. Yocomb trusts his wife?" "I will make no comparisons," I replied, gently. "Like the widow in the Bible, I give you all I have." Her tense grasp relaxed, her searching eyes melted into love itself, and I snatched her to my heart. "What were the millions I lost compared with this dowry!" she murmured. "I knew it--I've known it all day, ever since you crushed my hand. Oh, Richard, your rude touch healed a sore heart." "Emily," I said, with a low laugh, "that June day was the day of fate after all." "It was, indeed. I wish I could make you know how gladly I accept mine. Oh, Richard, I nearly killed myself trying not to love you. It was fate, or something better." "Then suppose we change the figure, and say our match was made in heaven." I will not attempt to describe that evening at the farmhouse. We were made to feel that it was our own dear home--a safe, quiet haven ever open to us when we wished to escape from the turmoil of the world. I thank God for our friends there, and their unchanging truth. I accompanied Emily to Columbus, but I went after her again in the spring and for a time she made her home with Mrs. Yocomb. Adah was married at Mrs. Winfield's large city mansion, for Mr. Hearn had a host of relatives and friends whom he wished present. The farmhouse would not have held a tithe of them, and the banker was so proud of his fair country flower that he seemed to want the whole world to see her.