As Peter went out of the room, Harry rose. He could no longer sit still. His heart leaped to the light, quick steps of Yanna; and when she entered, smiling and rosy, her eyes dancing with the excitement of her visitor, her whole body swaying to the music of love in her heart, he met her in the middle of the room with outstretched hands. She put her own hands in them, and her eyes met his, in a frank, sweet gaze, which he understood better than words. Who can translate the broken, kiss-divided sentences, in which two happy souls try to explain the joy of their meeting? All through the summer days, this love had been growing; and suddenly, in a moment, it had burst forth into blossom. The dull skies and the chill gray atmosphere did not touch a flower, whose roots were in celestial warmth and glory. They forgot all about such mere accidentals. There was a new sun, and a new moon; there was a new world, and new hopes, and a new life before them. They walked up and down the large room, telling each other when, and how, they first began to love--excusing their misapprehensions, chiding sweetly their doubts, and explaining the little cross-purposes, which had given them so many sleepless nights and miserable days. All their troubles were now over. They were to trust each other through everything. They were to help each other to grow nobler and better, and more worthy of this wonderful love; which both alike felt to be more wonderful, more true, more sweet, than any other love ever bestowed upon mortal man and woman. It was a little let-down to this exalted condition that it had to come within the social bonds of their common every-day lives. Harry said he "must speak to Mr. Van Hoosen," and Yanna answered, "Yes, Harry, and at once. I cannot be perfectly happy until my father knows how happy I am." The first ecstasy of their condition had demanded motion; but when Harry spoke of the necessary formalities of their engagement, they sat down. "Your father has a right to ask me some questions, dear Yanna, which I think I can answer to his satisfaction. There are only two things I fear." She looked at him with an assuring smile, and he went on, "First, I cannot marry for a year at any rate, perhaps longer." "Father will not count that against you. Nor do I. He will miss me every hour of his life, when I leave him. He will be thankful to put off the separation--and he has done so much for me, and we have been so much to each other, that I think I ought to give him a little more of my life." Harry knit his brows. It already hurt him to think of Yanna giving thought and love to others, when he wanted every thought for himself. He drew her close to him, and with kisses and tender words vowed, "though it was dreadfully selfish, he should be wretched until he had taken her absolutely away from every other tie." Perhaps she felt a moment's pleasure in this singleness of her lover's desire, but it was only momentary.