Cicely mystified Rodney; she was at once flame and starlight. He could not understand that the flame was of the sort that burned away dross; that Cis loved him with such overwhelming love that she walked under a sense of consecration. He could not understand, yet he recognized this and deferred to it in a way that amazed himself when he came to think it over. He could not risk letting Cis find him less than she believed him. Her trust in him, her idealization of him, humbled him and intrigued him. Could he marry Cis, deceiving her? Could he undeceive her? After they were married Cis would learn to accept things as they were; she would not love him less; she would love him more, tremendous as her love now was, for then there would be the complete blending which was marriage. Cis was not the sort of woman to criticise her husband. She would understand and justify him when she was his wife, nor would her slender hold upon the dominant Old Church be maintained against the clutch with which she would hold to her husband. Rodney’s fingers tightened as he thought how he would hold his wife, although Rome itself were hurled upon his grasp that held her. He knew that his love now flooded Cicely’s whole being with joy; when he was married to her he would show her that she had known no more of joy than the bird in the shell knows of the sunlight awaiting it. Cis had received her engagement ring from Rodney, not the conventional diamond. Rodney had a friend who was a dealer in precious stones; from him he had obtained a ruby perfect in color, beautifully cut, and he had himself designed its setting. Holly leaves laid one upon another, points resting each upon the following leaf, formed the ring; four leaf points converged to hold the wonderful ruby high to catch the light. It glowed and pulsated upon Cicely’s slender, nervous hand as if it refracted the light within her, the glow of her love for her lover. “Oh, Rod, my dearest, it’s beyond words to praise!” sighed Cis, turning her hand to give the ruby light upon every side. “It’s too wonderful for me!” Rodney caught her head between his hands and kissed and kissed her red hair. Then he crushed her face against his and held her lips to his in a long kiss. “I deserve it,” he said releasing her. “The ruby is you; how can it be too wonderful for you? No white diamond for you, but a ruby, like this one. You are my Holly, my glowing, ruby-red Holly! My Christmas Gift! Cis, we shall be married on Christmas Eve? Cis, I beg of you, don’t ask me to wait longer! That’s almost two full months! I’ve found the apartment; I haven’t told you, but it’s a little bit of all right! Christmas Eve our wedding! Christmas morning, when the bells ring, to say for the first time: ‘Good morning, my wife!’ ‘Good morning, Rod, my own man!’ And our Christmas breakfast in our own home--no trips away then; perhaps later!--but I yours, you mine, wholly, forever, my Holly upon my own walls! Cis, in mercy--say yes!”