"And the ideal man?" "Oh," said Miss Francie, hurriedly, "I hardly know about that. Of course, when I--when I spoke of Linn a little while ago, I did not wish to say anything against him--certainly not--no one admires his better qualities more than I do--but--but there may be other qualities--" They were come to the wooden gate opening on to the highway; he paused ere he lifted the latch. "Francie," said he, "do you think that some day you might be induced to put aside all your high standards and ideals, and--and--in short, accept a battered old journalist, without money, position, distinction, without any graces, except this, that gratitude might add something to his affection for you?" Tears sprang into her eyes, and yet there was a smile there, too; she was not wholly frightened--perhaps she had known all along. "Ah, and you don't understand yet, Maurice!" she said, and she frankly gave him her hand, and her eyes were kind even through her tears. "You don't understand what I have been saying to you, that a girl's ideal is one particular person--her ideal is the man or woman whom she admires and loves the most. Can you not guess?" "Francie, you will be my wife?" he said to her, drawing her closer to him, his hands clasped round her head. She did not answer. She was silent for a second or two. And then she said, with averted eyes, "You spoke of gratitude, Maurice. I know who has the most reason to be grateful--and who will try the hardest to show it." So that betrothal was completed; and when they passed out from the coppice into the whiter air, behold! the wild March skies had parted somewhat, and there was a shimmer of silver sunlight along the broad highway between the hedges. It was an auspicious omen--or, at least, their full hearts may have thought so; and then, again, there was a wedding chorus all around them from the birds--from the bright-eyed robin perched on the crimson bramble-spray; from the speckled thrush on the swaying elm; from the lark far-hovering over a field of young corn. But in their own happiness they had thought of others; Francie soon came back to Lionel again and his grievous misfortunes; and she was listening with meekness to this tall, clear-eyed man, who could now claim a certain gentle authority over her. They were a long time before they got to the doctor's house.