Two days had elapsed since then, and it was night again--but to the blind girl, drinking in the words of love which fell like music on her ear, it was high noon-day, and the sky undimmed by a single cloud. "I once called you my cousin, Maude," the deep-toned voice said, "and I thought it the sweetest name I had ever heard, but there is a nearer, dearer name which I would give to you, even my wife--Maude--shall it be?" and he looked into her sightless eyes to read her answer. She had listened eagerly to the story of his love born so long ago--had held her breath lest she should lose a single word when he told her how he had battled with that love, and how his heart had thrilled with joy when he heard that she was free--but when he asked her to be his wife the bright vision faded, and she answered mournfully, "You know not what you say. You would not take a blind girl in her helplessness." "A thousandfold dearer to me for that very helplessness," he said, and then he told her of the land beyond the sea, where the physicians were well skilled in everything pertaining to the eye. "Thither they would go," he said, "when the April winds were blowing, and should the experiment not succeed, he would love and cherish her all the more." Maude knew he was in earnest, and was about to answer him, when along the hall there came the sound of little crutches, and over her face there flitted a shadow of pain. It was the sister-love warring with the love of self, but James De Vere understood it all, and he hastened to say, "Louis will go, too, my darling. I have never had a thought of separating you. In Europe he will have a rare opportunity for developing his taste. Shall it not be so?" "Let him decide," was Maude's answer, as the crutches struck the soft carpet of the room. "Louis," said Mr. De Vere, "shall Maude go with me to Europe as my wife?" "Yes, yes--yes, yes," was Louis' hasty answer, his brown eyes filling with tears of joy when he heard that he, too, was to accompany them. Maude could no longer refuse, and she half fancied she saw the flashing of the diamonds, when James placed upon her finger the ring which bore the inscription of "Cousin Maude." Before coming there that night, Mr. De Vere had consulted a New York paper, and found that a steamship would sail for Liverpool on the 20th of April, about six weeks from that day. "We will go in it," he said, "my blind bird, Louis, and I," and he parted lovingly the silken tresses of her to whom this new appellation was given.