"There is but one thing more you can do to make me happy. You can be my wife." "But I don't understand!" She shook her head hopelessly. "You are jesting with me. You love Miss Wayland." "No. Miss Wayland leaves to-night, and I shall never see her again." "Then you won't marry her?" "No." A dull color rose to Cherry Malotte's cheeks; she swallowed as if her throat were very dry, and said, slowly: "Then she refused you in spite of everything, and you have come to me because of what I told you this afternoon. You are doing this out of pity--or is it because you are angry with her? No, no, Boyd! I won't have it. I don't want your pity--I don't want what she cast off." "It has taken me a long time to find myself, Cherry, for I have been blinded by a vision," he answered. "I have been dreaming, and I never saw clearly till to-day. I came away of my own free will; and I came straight to you because it is you I love and shall always love." The girl suddenly began to beat her hands together. "You--forget what I--have been!" she cried, in a voice that tore her lover's heartstrings. "You can't want to--marry me?" "To-night," he said, simply, and held out his arms to her. "I love you and I want you. That is all I know or care about." He found her upon his breast, sobbing and shaking as if she had sought shelter there from some great peril. He buried his face in the soft masses of her hair, whispering fondly to her till her emotion spent itself. She turned her face shyly up at length and pressed her lips to his. Then, holding herself away from him, she said, with a half-doubtful yet radiant look: "It is not too late yet. I will give you one final chance to save yourself." He shook his head. "Then I have done my duty!" She snuggled closer to him. "And you have no regrets?" "Only one. I am sorry that I can't give you more than my name. I may have to go out into the world and begin all over if Mr. Wayland carries out his threat. I may be the poorest of the poor." "That will be my opportunity to show how well I love you. You can be no poorer than I in this world's goods." "You at least have your copper-mine." "I have no mine," said the girl. "Not even the smallest interest in one." "But--I don't understand." She dropped her eyes. "Mr. Hilliard is a hard man to deal with. I had to give him all my share in the claims." "I suppose you mean you sold out to him." "No! When I found you could not raise the money, I gave him my share in the mine. With that as a consideration, he made you the loan. You are not angry, are you?" "Angry!" Emerson's tone conveyed a supreme gladness. "You don't know--how happy you have made me." "Hark!" She laid a finger upon his lips. Through the breathless night there came the faint rumble of a ship's chains. "_The Grande Dame!_" he cried. "She sails at the flood tide."