With a boy's caress for both parents he was gone. Alma and Will together cleared away the supper. When they had finished, they retired to the sitting-room. Will seated himself in a big arm-chair, and gently pulled Alma down upon his knee, in the same old, loving manner. She nestled up to him, and, resting her head upon his breast, she looked up into his face in quiet rapture. His eyes looked down at her with the gaze of a hungry soul, not yet satisfied. "I cannot bear to be away from you one hour, dearest," he said. "I am always fearing something will snatch you from my arms again. We are not out of the woods yet." "How foolish, Will," she said, smiling brightly, "You must trust George. He can do anything, you know." "George! What a friend! I wonder you did not completely forget your Will, when by his side!" She sighed gently at the thought of those days. "Ah, Will! There was never a day, when I did not go alone to the library, to sit before your picture, and gaze into your loving eyes. George is great and good, but Will is the one love of my life!" She pressed her soft cheek against his, and thus they sat, too filled with ecstasy to speak. Suddenly his eyes became troubled, and a mist gathered in them. "Dearest, how can you ever forgive me for causing you so much suffering?" he asked brokenly. "How can you ever forgive me?" she replied. "Sh! You must not say that!" he returned, sealing her lips with a kiss. Just then Harold's quick ring of the bell was heard. "George, too, or he would not be so soon back," exclaimed Will. She arose, and opening the door, hand in hand they waited for George and Harold to ascend the stairs. "I've got him," said Harold delightedly, as Will and Alma each grasped the hand that George extended to them. "O, George, we were so afraid something might keep you away," said Alma, and as they ushered him in, she slipped away to the little kitchen, where the kettle seemed always to sing to her, "Home, sweet home." Quickly she poured a cup of chocolate, and setting it on a dainty tray, she placed with it the cream, sugar and muffins, temptingly. This she took in to George. He took it and looked from one to the other with a bright sympathy. "I made these muffins myself," said Alma, laughing. "Yes, and you ought to have seen Mus," said Harold, "She read the cook book about a dozen times, and then made three tins of muffins before they came out fluffy like. They're bully, though!" When the tray was taken away, and Alma once more rejoined them, George said happily, "I have only good news for you all. Everything is settled satisfactorily. Will, nothing will ever be brought up against you in any way. The bank officials sent their good wishes, and hope for your future success. I've also got a letter of introduction for you to present to a big firm here, which promises to give you a fair start in this city, where your name can be made anew." He drew the letter from his pocket and handed it to Will.