She had beautiful eyes, large, dark and expressive, and her black hair, which Mrs. Mason had shingled close to her head, now clustered in short, silky rings about her brow, adding a charming piquancy to her pretty face. Her dress, too, was always as perfectly elegant as wealth and taste could make it, so that many more beside Lily Lawrence considered the dark-eyed widow young and pretty. Mr. Shelton was among the number of those who agreed with Lily. The forlorn young creature whom he had rescued and cared for had begun to twine herself about his heart. He was a bachelor, and forty years old, but his heart was not proof against Cupid's darts. Now since Fanny Colville had come into his path of duty, pity and kindness had grown into love, strong, fervent, and abiding. He strolled into her drawing-room one day a few months after her husband's death, and found her sitting cosily before the fire with a bit of fancy-work lying on her lap. "I hope I do not disturb you," he said, noting her dreamy look. "You seemed to be thinking on some very absorbing subject when I entered." "I was thinking of you, Mr. Shelton," returned the young widow, with a smile and a slight blush. "Of me!" exclaimed the detective, observing the blush with a thrill of pleasure. "I hope your thoughts were agreeable ones." "They could not be otherwise when I think of my kind friend and preserver," answered Fanny, giving him a gentle glance from her frank, dark eyes. "Oh, Mr. Shelton, when I think of myself as I was when you discovered me in that loathsome dungeon, starving and freezing in my wretched rags, and delivered me from my bonds--when I remember that and contrast it with my present happy lot, I feel that I can never repay the great debt of gratitude I owe you." "I fear," he said, at length, "that you overestimate the value of the service I did you, Mrs. Colville. It is true, I suppose that I saved your life, but what then? Life to many is not as great a boon that they would thank one for saving it." "Ah, but they are misanthropic," returned Fanny, brightly. "Life to me, Mr. Shelton, is a great boon. I love to live! I love to feel the warm blood rushing through my veins with the ardor of youth and hope. I love to feel my pulses bounding with life's fitful fever. Oh, Mr. Shelton, can I do nothing to show my gratitude for all you have done for me?" The detective drew nearer and took her soft, warm hand impulsively in his own. "Yes, dear Fanny," he said, his deep, manly voice trembling with emotion. "Give me the life I saved for my reward. Give me your own sweet self for the day-star of my future. Be my wife!" Blushing and startled, Fanny looked up into his face, but her eyes drooped swiftly before the great tenderness in his. The next moment she laid both hands in his and whispered, between April smiles and tears: "Take me if I can make you happy. I ask no brighter fate." CHAPTER XL.