But then her heart began to flutter uncontrollably. The blood went surging to her brows, for all of a sudden, as through impulse irresistible, her hand was seized in his--in both of his, in fact--and the deep voice that had pleaded at her behest for the cause of Billy Gray was now, in impetuous flow of words that fell upon her ears like some strain of thrilling music, pleading at last his own. Ever since that day in the radiant sunshine of the Park she had learned to look up to him as a tower of strength, a man of mark among his fellows, a man to be honored and obeyed. Ever since that night at the Palace, when she saw his glowing eyes fixed intently upon her, and knew that he was following her every move, she had begun to realize the depth of his interest in her. Ever since that day when the China slipped from her moorings, with Witchie Garrison singling him out for lavish farewell favors, she had wondered why it so annoyed and stung her. Ever since the day she read the list of killed and wounded in the first fierce battling with the "Insurrectos" she knew it was the sight of his name, not Billy Gray's, that made her for the moment faint and dizzy, and taught her the need of greater self-control. Ever since that moonlit night upon the Marsden's _lanai_, when her heart leaped at the sudden sound of his voice, she had realized what his coming meant to her, and ever since that breezy day upon the broad Pacific, with the sailor's song of "Land ho!" ringing from the bows, and he, her wounded soldier, had sprung to shield her from the crash of Shafto's hapless stumble, and the deck was stained with the precious blood from that soldier's reopened wound, shed for her--for her who so revered him--she had longed to hear him say the words that alone could unlock the gates of maidenly reserve and let her tell him--tell him with glad and grateful heart that the love he bore her was answered by her own. Hovering over him only one minute, her lips half parted, her eyes still veiled, her heart throbbing loud and fast, with sudden movement she threw herself upon her knees at the side of the low chair, and her burning face, ever so lightly, was buried in the dark-blue sleeve above that blessed wound. THE END. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- GROSSET & DUNLAP'S Desirable Editions of Popular Books The following books are printed from new, large type plates, on fine laid paper of excellent quality, and durably and handsomely bound in the best silk finished book cloth, each with a handsome and distinctive cover design. They are in every way superior to any other editions at the same price. They are for sale by all booksellers, or will be mailed by the publishers on receipt of FIFTY CENTS PER VOLUME