The story of the last four months came pelting. Anthony fairly opened his heart. At first, listening to the bare truth told with the confident naïveté of disbelief, Valerie felt as though she were cheating the blind. After a little, this sense of shabbiness was suddenly supplanted by a perfect torment of apprehension lest Anthony should detect her hypocrisy. Presently, before her breathless interest in the narrative, the girl's uneasiness slipped unremarked away, and, when the door opened and the gentle nurse appeared to part them, she was following the ingenuous recital with unaffected eagerness. Valerie nodded her acquiescence in the unspoken order, and the nurse withdrew. As the former rose to her feet-- "Ah, must you go, my lady?" "Till this evening, dear lad." Anthony sighed fretfully. "And I've wasted all our precious time with my old dream. I've hardly spoken of you, and there's so much I want to know." "We've plenty of time, darling. Think of it. Once we never knew when--if, even, we should ever see one another again. Now ... Oh, Anthony, we're very rich." "I am," said Anthony, smiling. "And when you say you are--why, then I feel like a king." Valerie flung up her head. An instant, and she was singing.... "_If I were a queen, What would I do? I'd make you a king And I'd wait upon you-- If I were a queen._" Never melody knew such tenderness. Poor Anthony could not trust himself to speak.... Valerie stooped and laid a soft cheek against his. Then she pressed his hand to her lips. The next moment she was gone. * * * * *