Her eyes unclosed and she looked up into the fond face bending over her, and a quick flush of happiness swept up to her brow, as she met the fervent lovelight in his glance. She sat up and gently released herself from his clinging arms, and he raised and led her to the great chair in which he had been sitting when she entered the room. At that moment there came a knock on the door and the servant announced that Sir William’s carriage was ready. Sir William controlled his emotion as well as he was able, and turning to the man, said: “I find I cannot leave for another hour yet, please send the carriage back to the stable, and I will ring when I wish it again.” The man bowed and withdrew, and Sir William turned again to his dear one. “Are you better, Virgie! Shall I call a maid to get you something?” he asked, regarding her still pale face anxiously. “No, do not,” she pleaded, putting out her hand beseechingly. “At least let me get you some water,” he said, and going to a table where there were an ice pitcher and goblets, he filled a glass, and brought it to her. She drank thirstily and passed the goblet back to him, looking up with a grateful little smile for the service. He bent impulsively and touched his lips to her forehead. “My darling!” he breathed. Again the quick color flooded her face and tears sprang into her eyes; how she had longed for years to hear those tender tones! The sight of her tears moved him deeply. He put down the glass, and kneeling beside her drew her again into his arms. “Oh, my love!” he whispered, a great sob heaving his broad chest, “you have been cruelly deceived, but set me at rest upon one point—tell me that you love me yet. I have never been untrue to you in thought or deed. I have lived a lonely, solitary life. I have been heart-broken without you. Virgie, you were the one love of my whole life; now tell me if your heart is still mine.” She bowed her head upon his breast, melted by his fond words, and sobbed in an agony of grief for her lost happiness; she twined her arms about his neck and drew his face down to her tear-wet cheek. “Oh, Will,” she murmured, brokenly, “I have ruined all your life and mine! I should have come to you, in spite of all, and to learn my fate from your own lips. We have lost all these years when we might have been so happy. You know that I love you; every day, every hour of my life my heart has cried out for you. I have literally been starving for your love.” He needed no stronger proof of her devotion; he knew that she loved him as fondly now as in those months of their early wedded life, and he folded her still closer to him, kissing, again and again, those dear lips, which for eighteen years had known no caress save what she had received from her child. Their reunion was perfect and complete, and, for a little while, they could think of nothing, speak of nothing save the joy of being once more all in all to each other.