Then the God of Women struck light across his blindness, and taking her in his arms, he looked her straight in the eyes and told her the whole gruesome bitter tale. Before he had finished she closed her eyes against his and swayed away from him to the cold window-pane. "I see," she whispered, "you don't want me--you couldn't--_you_--_never_--_did_!" And at that instant the blood bond in Andrew Sevier's breast snapped and with an awed comprehension of the vast and everlasting Source from which flows the love that constrains and the love that heals, the love that only comes to bind in honor, he reached out and took his own. In the seventh heaven which is the soul haunt of all in like case, there was no need of word mating. Hours later, one by one the lights in the houses along the avenue twinkled out and the street lay in the grasp of the after midnight silence. Only a bright light still burned at the major's table, which was piled high with books into which he was delving with the hunger of many long hours of deprivation strong upon him. He had scouted the idea of the ball, had donned dressing-gown and slippers and gone back to the company of his Immortals with alacrity. On their return Mrs. Buchanan and the girls had found him buried in his tomes ten deep and it was with difficulty that Phoebe, kneeling beside him on one side, and Caroline on the other, made him listen to their joint tale of modern romance, to which Mrs. Matilda played the part of a joyous commentator. To Phoebe he was merciless and a war of wits made the library echo with its give and take. "Of course, my dear Phoebe," he said, "it is an established fact that a man and his wife are one, and if you will just let that one be Judge Kildare semi-occasionally it will more than content him, I'm sure." "Why, Major, can't you trust me to be a good--wife to David? Don't be unkind to me! I'll promise to--to--" "Don't, Phoebe, don't! That 'love, honor and obey' clause is the direct cause of all the woman legislation ever undertaken--and it holds a remarkably short time after marriage as a general thing. Now there's Matilda--for over thirty-five years I've--But where is Andrew?" he demanded anxiously. "Andy," answered David with the greatest delight in his happy eyes and the red lock rampant over his brow, "is sitting on the end of a hard bench down at the telegraph office trying to get a cable through to his chief for permission to wait over for a steamer that sails for Panama two weeks from to-day." "What?" demanded the major in surprise, looking at Caroline. "Oh, _she's_ going with him--there are no frills to the affection of Caroline Darrah! She'll be bending over his camp-fire yanking out his hot tamales in less than a month--glad to do it. Won't you, beautiful?" answered David gleefully to Caroline's beautiful confusion.