There was an old heavy gate opening from his fields, and Christina, who was lingering that Gavin might come to her, saw that he was trying vainly to open it with his one hand, his stick held under what remained of his poor left arm. She forgot all her shyness and her pride at the sight, forgot everything but that Gavin needed her, and ran swiftly to him, down the green woodland pathway. She took the heavy gate in her strong, brown hands and pushed it back. "Oh, Gavin," she cried radiantly, "I will have to be your other hand, won't I?" Even Gavin's unready tongue could not miss this great opportunity, "Yes, you will be everything,--my whole life, Christine," he murmured. The heavy gate between them was open at last. It had been a long, hard climb, up their separate hills of suffering and self-sacrifice, but they had come up steadily and bravely. And now they met, and stood hand in hand, on the rosy hill-top. THE END