This time it was Katharine who helped Seymour up the hill. Slowly, hand in hand, they walked across the lawn, up the steps of the porch, and toward the door of the Hall. The night had fallen, and the house was filled with a soft light from the wax candles. They paused a moment on the threshhold; Katharine resolutely mastered her fears and resolved to be happy in the present, then, heedless of all who might see, she kissed him. "Home at last, John," she said, beaming upon him. And there, with the dark behind, and the light before, we may say good-by to them. End of Project Gutenberg's For Love of Country, by Cyrus Townsend Brady