“I will yet win him over. God alone knows how I have worried over Milton’s long and extraordinary silence.” A moment and right upon the street, she felt warm arms around her, and a heart breathing next her own. “Marie,” was all that Milton said. “Milton!” she exclaimed, “what a surprise to father. Your name has just left my lips. My father and I have just been indulging in another portion of our perpetual quarrel over you. Why have you been so long silent?” “Silent, dearest,” said he in surprise. “I have not received a line from you in six months.” “Then my mail must have been miscarried, for I wrote almost as frequently as usual.” “Almost? Why not just as often?” she said, rather piqued. “For the last few months I have been more than absorbed in my work, for the annual competition at Rome, and moments were golden.” “Did you succeed?” she asked in breathless suspense. “Yes, my darling,” said Milton proudly, “I won the first prize, and hastened home to lay the laurels at your feet.” “I am proud of you, and I rejoice in your success. Now father shall come over to us,” said Marie. “What’s the news?” asked Milton. “I just disembarked from the Germania, jumped into a cab at the wharf, drove to your residence, learned that you had started for this place, followed, and once again behold your beloved face.” “Strange things have happened since you went abroad. You have heard about Ouida?” “Yes,” said Milton, “and it almost broke my heart. I owe so much to her.” “I am no longer jealous of her, and, dear Milton, if you can in any way help her I will love you more than ever, if possible.” “I need no inspiration to that end,” said Milton, “my own gratitude would urge and compel me to serve her.” “You are always generous, Milton, and I appreciate you all the more for it.” “I care not what the world may say,” said Milton, “but humanity needs her, and she shall no longer be buried beneath the weight of a sin for which long ago she paid the awful penalty.” “I share your opinion with all my heart,” said Marie. Just about this time Mr. Salmon, having accomplished the mission which had called him to Ouida’s house, returned, and his first glance lighted upon the happy pair, who were totally oblivious to his presence. He turned down another street, with a sigh, and left them undisturbed. _He had met with defeat._ The girl’s faith had triumphed. He felt he ought to succumb, yet he was proud and stubborn, and even yet there was opposition in his soul. CHAPTER XXIV. SALE OF “THE MODERN HERCULES.” Almost immediately after Olivia Winters and Mr. Connors had departed Horatio Nugent returned to Ouida’s presence. “I have just seen Marie Salmon and Milton Royle,” said he. “Milton Royle,” she said, “so he has returned from abroad?” “Yes, and radiant with victory. He has won the first prize at Rome, and was most anxious to offer his gratitude to you, but I knew you were weary with the trials of the day, and begged him to come some other time.”