As of old when she was a child, Lucy had nestled down close to her cousin and resting one small hand upon his arm was artlessly pouring out the whole story of her love for Walter Burton, her bright hopes and expectations, the joy that filled her soul, the happiness that she saw along the vista of the future; all with that freedom from reserve that marks the exchange of confidences between loving sisters. The day of the rack and stake has passed, but as long as human hearts shall beat, the day of torture can never come to a close; Jack listened to the heart story of the innocent, confiding woman beside him, who, all unaware of the torture she was inflicting, painted the future in words that wrung more agony from his soul than rack or stake could have caused his body. How bravely he battled against the pain that every word brought to his breast! Pierced by a hundred darts he still could meet the artless gaze of those bright, trusting, hazel eyes and smile in assurance of his interest and sympathy. “But of course my being married must make no difference with you, Cousin Jack. You must love me as you always have,” she said, as if the thought of losing something she was accustomed to have just occurred to her mind. “I shall always love you, Lucy, as I ever have.” The sailor’s voice came hoarse and deep from the broad breast that rose and fell like heaving billows. “You know, Jack, that you were always my refuge and strength in time of trouble or danger when I was a child, and even with dear Walter for my husband I still should feel lost had I not you to call upon.” Lucy’s voice trembled a little and she grasped Jack’s strong arm with the hand that rested there while they had been talking. “You may call me from the end of the earth, my dear, and feel sure that I shall come to you,” said Jack simply, but the earnest manner was more convincing to the woman at his side than fine phrases would have been. “Oh! Jack! what a comfort you are, and how much I rely upon you. It makes me quite strong and brave to know that my marriage will make no change in your love for me.” “As long as life shall last, my cousin, I shall love you,” replied the man almost sadly, as he placed his hand over hers that held his arm. “Or until some day you marry and your wife becomes jealous,” added Lucy laughing. “Or until I marry and my wife is jealous,” repeated Dunlap with the faintest kind of emphasis upon “until.” Miss Stanhope began to play a waltz of the inspiring nature that almost makes old and gouty feet to tingle, and is perfectly irresistible to the young and joyous. Burton and Miss Winthrop in a minute were whirling around the drawing-room. How perfectly Burton could dance; his easy rythmic steps were the very poetry of motion. Lucy and Jack paused to watch the handsome couple as they glided gracefully through the room. “Does not Walter dance beautifully?” exclaimed Lucy as she followed the dancers with admiring glances.