"This," said he at last, "is your right to know. It is due to me. I cannot let you misjudge the individual. While I am convinced, that does not make a doubt a fact and on it I cannot build a future. You have my history, and you know that in the heart of Edward Morgan you alone have any part. The world holds no other woman for me, nor ever will; but there is the end. If I stayed by you the day would come when this love would sweep away every resolution, every sense of duty, every instinct of my mind, except the instinct to love you, and for this reason I have come to say that until life holds no mystery for Edward Morgan he will be an exile from you." The girl's head was sunk upon her arms as it rested upon the settee. She did not lift her face. What could she answer to such a revelation, such a declaration? After a while he ceased to walk the gravel floor of their arbor, and stood by her. Unconsciously he let his hand rest upon the brown curls. "This does not mean," he said, very gently, "that I am going away to mope and wear out life in idle regrets. Marion Evan lives; I will find her. And then--and then--if she bids me, I will come back, and with a clean record ask you to be my wife. Answer me, my love, my only love--let me say these words this once--answer me; is this the course that an honorable man should pursue?" She rose then and faced him proudly. His words had thrilled her soul. "It is. I could never love you, Edward, if you could offer less. I have no doubt in my mind--none. A woman's heart knows without argument, and I know that you will come to me some day. God be with you till we meet again--and for all time and eternity. This will be my prayer." Without object, the silent couple, busy with their thoughts, entered the living-room. The colonel was sitting in his arm-chair, his paper dropped from his listless hand, his eyes closed. The Duchess in his lap had fallen asleep, holding the old open-faced watch and its mystery of the little boy within who cracked hickory nuts. They made a pretty picture--youth and old age, early spring and late winter. Mary lifted her hand warningly. "Softly," she said; "they sleep; don't disturb them." Edward looked closely into the face of the old man, and then to the surprise of the girl placed his arm about her waist. "Do not cry out," he said; "keep calm and remember that the little mamma's health--" "What do you mean?" she said, looking with wonder into his agitated face as she sought gently to free herself. "Have you forgotten----" "This is sleep indeed--but the sleep of eternity." She sprang from him with sudden terror and laid her hand upon the cold forehead of her father. For an instant she stared into his face, with straining eyes, and then with one frightful scream she sank by his side, uttering his name in agonized tones.