She spoke at last just to say "No" very softly, yet with a wealth of confident happiness. "The things we'll do, the things we'll see, the times we'll have!" cried Harry gaily. "And to think that it's only a month or two ago that the idea occurred to me!" He teased her. "Occurred to us, Vivien?" "Oh no, Harry. Well, then, yes." She laughed lightly, pressing his arm again. "But never that it could be like this." "Is this--nice?" he asked in banter. "Is it--real?" she whispered. "Yes, it's real and it's nice--real nice, in fact," laughed Harry. "Don't talk just for a little while," she begged, and he humoured her, watching her delicate face during the silence she entreated. "You must tell them," she said suddenly, with a return of her alarm. "Oh yes, I'll do all the hard work," he promised her, smiling. She fell into silence again, the wonderful words re-echoing in her ears--"More than everything in the world besides!" "More than all my life!" "I promised Miss Vintry we'd be back to tea. Do you think you can face her?" asked Harry. "Yes, with you. But you've got to tell. You promised." "You'll have somebody to help you over all the stiles--now and hereafter." The suggestion brought a radiant smile of happiness to her lips; it expressed to her the transformation of her life. So many things had been stiles to her, and her father's gospel was that people must get over their own stiles for themselves; that was the lesson he inculcated, with Isobel Vintry to help him. But now--well, if stiles were still possible things at all, with Harry to help her over they lost all their terrors. "We'll remember this old tree-trunk. In fact I think that the proper thing is to carve our initials on it--two hearts and our initials. That's real keeping company!" "Oh no," she protested with a merry little laugh. "Keeping company! Harry!" "Well, I'll let you off the hearts, but I must have the initials--very, very small. Do let me have the initials!" "Somewhere where nobody will look, nobody be likely to see them!" "Oh yes; I'll find a very secret place! And once a year--on the anniversary, if we're here--we'll come and freshen them up with a penknife." He had his out now, and set about his pleasant silly task, choosing one end of the tree-trunk, near to the ground, where, in fact, nobody who was not in the secret would find the record. "There you are--a beautiful monogram; 'H' and 'V' intertwined. I'm proud of that!" "So am I--very proud, Harry!" she said softly, taking his arm as they moved away. Was she not blessed among the daughters of women? To say nothing of being the envy of all Meriton! And for Harry the past was all over, the dead had buried its dead. The new life--and the life of the new man--had begun.