"I've come," he said, rather morosely; "though I don't know why you

should have insisted upon my doing so--or what good it will do me to

hear about her," he added, in a low voice, as they followed the servant

up the stairs.

As the man touched the handle of the door, Howard said: "Go in, my dear fellow; I've left my pocket-handkerchief in my overcoat

in the hall: back in a moment."

With a frown of annoyance, Stafford hesitated and looked after him;

then, with a shrug of his shoulders, he obeyed and entered the room.

They uttered no cry of surprise, of joy. They stood for a moment

looking at each other with their hearts in their eyes. It was the

moment that bridged over all the weary months of waiting, of longing,

of doubts and fears, of hope that seemed too faint for hope and but a

mockery of despair.

He had no need to ask her if she loved him, her face was eloquent of

the truth; and her eyes reflected the love that glowed in his. He had

got hold of her hand before she knew it, had drawn her to him, and,

utterly regardless of the fact that he was in a strange house, that

they might be interrupted any moment, he kissed her passionately with

all the passion that had been stored up for so long.

"Ida," he said, as he bent over her and pressed her to him, "I have

come back, I cannot live without you--ah, but you know that, you know

that. Is it too late? It is not too late?"

"No; it is not too late," she whispered. "I--I did not know whether you

would come. But I have been waiting; I should have waited all my life.

But the time has been very long, Stafford!"

* * * * * At the end of the quarter of an hour for which Howard had bargained,

Lady Fitzharford opened the door of the inner room softly, so softly,

that seeing Miss Heron in the arms of a stalwart young man, and

apparently quite content to be there, her ladyship discreetly closed

the door again, and going round by the inner room found Mr. Howard

seated on the stairs. She looked at him with amazement, well-nigh

bewilderment.

"Are you mad?" she exclaimed, in a whisper.

Howard smiled at her blandly.

"No," he said, with a backward jerk of his head, "but they are. I'm

told it's a delicious kind of madness worth all your sanity. Do not let

us disturb them. Come and sit down beside me until the time is up," he

glanced at his watch; "they have still three minutes."




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