She stopped and he sprang toward her, but she fended him off, and gave him a pained look and went on as he sank moaning into his chair: "Tom, dear, how should we spend the first whole hour we have ever had in our lives alone together? I have read and re-read your beautiful letters, dear. Oh, I know some of them by heart. I am yours, Tom--all yours. Now, dear," he made a motion to rise, "come here by my chair, I want to touch you. But--that's all." They sat close together, and the woman went on: "There are so many things I want to say, Tom, to-night. I wonder if I can think of any of them. It is all so beautiful. Isn't it?" she asked softly, and felt his answer in every nerve in his body, though his lips did not speak. It was the woman who broke the silence. "Time is slipping by, Tom. I know what's in your mind, and you know what's in mine. Where will this thing end? It can't go on this way. It must end now, to-night--this very night, Tom, dear, or we must know where we are coming out. Do you understand?" "Yes, Margaret," replied the man. He gripped his arm about her, and continued passionately, "And I'm ready." In a long minute of ecstasy they were dumb. He went on, "You have good cause--lots of cause--every one knows that. But I--I'll make it somehow--Oh, I can make it." He set his teeth fiercely, and repeated, "Oh, I'll make it, Margaret." The night sounds filled their deaf ears, and the pressure of their hands--all so new and strange--filled them with joy, but the joy was shattered by a step upon the sidewalk, and until it died away they were breathless. Then they sat closer together and the woman whispered: "'And I'd turn my back upon things eternal To lie on your breast a little while.'" A noise in the house, perhaps of the cat moving through the room behind them, startled them again. The man shook and the woman held her breath; then they both smiled. "Tom--Tom--don't you see how guilty we are? We mustn't repeat this; this is our hour, but we must understand each other here and now." The man did not reply. He who had taken recklessly and ruthlessly all of his life had come to a place where he must give to take. His fortunes were tied up in his answer, so he replied: "Margaret, you know the situation--down town?" "The judgeship?" she asked. "Yes." "But that will be settled in November. After that is time enough. Oh, eternity is time enough, Tom--I can wait and wait and wait--only if it is to be for eternity, we must not reckon with it now."