"If you desire it, Hartley," she answered, in a voice that trembled in the beginning, but grew firm ere the sentence closed, "it is not for me to say, 'No.' As for kind feelings, they are yours always--always. The bitterness passed from my heart long ago." "And from mine," said Mr. Emerson. They were silent for a few moments, and each showed embarrassment. "Nearly twenty years! That is a long, long time, Irene." His voice showed signs of weakness. "Yes, it is a long time." It was a mere echo of his words, yet full of meaning. "Twenty years!" he repeated. "There has been full time for reflection, and, it may be, for repentance. Time for growing wiser and better." Irene's eyelids drooped until the long lashes lay in a dark fringed line on her pale cheeks. When she lifted them they were wet. "Yes, Hartley," she answered with much feeling, "there has been, indeed, time for reflection and repentance. It is no light thing to shadow the whole life of a human being." "As I have shadowed yours." "No, no," she answered quickly, "I did not mean that; as I have shadowed yours." She could not veil the tender interest that was in her eyes; would not, perhaps, if it had been in her power. At this moment a bell rang out clear and loud. Irene started and glanced from the window; then, rising quickly, she said-- "We are at the landing." There was a hurried passage from cabin to deck, a troubled confusion of thought, a brief period of waiting, and then Irene stood on the shore and Hartley Emerson on the receding vessel. In a few hours miles of space lay between them. "Irene, darling," said Mrs. Everet, as they met at Ivy Cliff on the next day, "how charming you look! This pure, sweet, bracing air has beautified you like a cosmetic. Your cheeks are warm and your eyes are full of light. It gives me gladness of heart to see in your face something of the old look that faded from it years ago." Irene drew her arm around her friend and kissed her lovingly. "Come and sit down here in the library. I have something to tell you," she answered, "that will make your heart beat quicker, as it has mine." "I have met him," she said, as they sat down and looked again into each other's faces. "Him! Who?" "Hartley." "Your husband?" "He who was my husband. Met him face to face; touched his hand; listened to his voice; almost felt his heart beat against mine. Oh, Rose darling, it has sent the blood bounding in new life through my veins. He was on the boat yesterday, and came to me as I sat reading. We talked together for a few minutes, when our landing was reached, and we parted. But in those few minutes my poor heart had more happiness than it has known for twenty years. We are at peace. He asked why we might not be as friends who could meet now and then, and feel kindly toward each other? God bless him for the words! After a long, long night of tears, the sweet morning has broken!"