So to this pair of lovers, though their lot in life was but lowly, and the roof that sheltered them humble, came as pure and rich a joy as if they had dwelt in palace halls. Is it not a glorious provision of Providence that love is free for all? Not bought like diamonds, although it shines brighter; not purchased like luxuries, although it is sweeter, but free as the pure air of heaven, although the greatest luxury, so that if it had to be bought it would bring the greatest price of all. "Oh, Geraldine," cried her lover, "I love you still, I shall love you always, even if my love prove hopeless, and changes from bliss to endless pain! But give me some little hope to feed on, dearest one. Tell me that that base wretch Standish did not win you with his wicked arts, did not turn your heart against me!" "Oh, no, no, no!" she murmured, faintly, then paused, abashed, remembering how she had listened to and believed all the cruel falsehoods against her true lover. "You believed in me, in spite of all! Oh, how can I thank you----" he began, but she interrupted. "Oh, no, I was not so noble as you believe, for I thought he told the truth. But--but--it made me wretched, thinking you were what he said, for--I could not love him, though he begged me. I--I--loved you, in spite of all!" "Geraldine--my own!" and he caught her to his breast, their lips meeting in Love's first kiss. Oh, the happiness of that moment; its never-to-be-forgotten bliss! It paid for all they had suffered in the months that they had been so cruelly parted by the machinations of a villain. At last they thought of sitting down, although Hawthorne said, happily: "But it must be for only a moment; then I must tear myself away, and not keep you from your needful rest, my beloved one. To-morrow I will come again, and feast my eyes on the sight of you." "Oh, it is not so late, and--I am not sleepy," she faltered. "Darling!" and he kissed the sweet lips fondly again; then, holding her hand, and looking deep in her tender eyes, he continued: "I am going to ask you for one pledge of the love you have so sweetly confessed for me, Geraldine. Promise me that you will never go on the stage again." "Oh, never, never! I hate it now, and I will never tread the boards again!" vowed Geraldine, in eager earnest, shuddering at thought of the pitfalls Clifford Standish had spread for her unwary feet, and thanking Heaven in her secret heart that she had escaped them. She could not bring herself to confess to her lover that she had actually promised to marry Standish that night, and that only a fortunate accident had prevented the consummation of the horror. Why, even now, instead of this dear hand-clasp, instead of these dear kisses, she might have been trembling in silent disgust at the caresses of a man she could never love! Oh, how good Heaven had been to save her from the consequences of her own folly, and restore her to her love again!