"Yes, poor child," he answered tenderly, stroking the soft hair. She guessed by his half-soothing, half-bantering tone, that he divined her thoughts. Creeping yet closer, she placed her two hands upon his breast. His own closed over them. "You—you heard?" she whispered, her eyes downcast. Then he had pity upon her. "Hazel," he said earnestly, "I heard you say you loved me, and I heard you call my name. But it was not till you fainted that I was able to rouse myself." He might have added he could yet feel the two timid kisses that had fallen upon his cheek, but he was merciful. A silence fell between them. Hazel was wrestling with her shyness. She must know. In desperation she raised her head and looked quickly into his face. Her lips parted, but it was a quick blush that asked the question. "And that too, little love," he murmured. FINIS