She waylaid him in a bypath. "Daffodil!" he cried in surprise. "What has happened? "Nothing, nothing; I wanted to see you," but her voice trembled. "Come this way." "How mysterious you are!" If she meant to give him his _congé_ she could have done it better by letter. And the clasp of her hand on his arm had a clinging force. "There is something for you to see. Let us turn here." After a space through intervening trees they came to the open, where she paused and unfolded a paper she had held in her hand. "Read this," she said, and he stared a moment silently. One moment, another moment. How still it was, every bird had hushed its singing, even the crickets were not chirping. "He will come back to America. He will come back for you now that he is free," Bartram subjoined hoarsely. Should he hold her or let her go? Was the old love---- She faced him and slipped both hands over his shoulders, clasped them at the back of his neck. It seemed to him he had never seen such an entrancing light in her eyes. "Aldis," she began, with tremulous sweetness, "I would rather be your wife than the greatest duchess of them all." And then she hid her blushing face on his breast. It would not be raised, but he kissed the brow, the eyelids, and said in a shaken voice: "Were you afraid----" Then she raised the sweet face where he saw tears and the quick rifts of color, but there were high lights of resolve in the beautiful eyes. "Not afraid anything could rekindle the glamor of that mistake, nor any repentance on his part mend the deception. I was a child then. I did not understand the depths that go to the making of a true love. All summer I have been learning----" Then she paused and hid her face again. "And there is a great deal more to learn, sweetheart. We shall go on studying the delightful lesson all our lives, I trust, and never reach the bottom of the cup of joy. Daffodil, you have already roused me to a wider, higher life. A year ago I would not have been worthy of you. Yes, I was blind and self-engrossed then. We will study the sweet lesson together." Then they paused at a fallen log, not the old place that she never cared to see again. A little stream came trickling down the high hill and there were tender bird voices as accompaniments to the delicious confession. It had grown slowly, she was so afraid of another mistake, but he would never need to doubt its truth, its duration, its comprehensiveness. It seemed minutes only and yet held the mysterious sweetness of hours. Then she heard a voice calling. "Why--see! It is almost night! And that is Felix's voice. Oh, what have I been doing?" and she rose in a startled manner. "We will explain our iniquity," he said laughingly. They met Felix. "Oh!" he exclaimed in surprise. "We couldn't think! And we had supper." Then mother said, "Why, did you come in the stage? That was here hours ago," to Mr. Bartram, in a wondering tone.