She always was standing in the light of the window waiting for me. Herface was pale but steady, there was a proud light in her fathomlesseyes, a slight smile parted her lips, and she carried her head likea queen.

'Come in,' she exclaimed. 'You need not fear to tell me. I saw himride home. He has not failed, thank God! I am proud of him; Iknew he would be true. He loves me'--she drew inside her breathsharply, and a faint colour tinged her cheek--'but he knows love isnot all--ah, love is not all! 0h! I am glad and proud!'

'Glad!' I gasped, shockd.

'You would not have him prove faithless!' she exclaimed with prouddefiance.

'0h, it is high sentimental nonsense,' I could not help saying.

'You should not say so,' she said in reply, and her voice rang clear.'Honour, faith, and duty are sentiments, but they are notnonsense.'

In spite of my rage I was lost in amazed admiration of the highspirit of the woman who stood up so straight before me. But, as Itold how worn and broken he was, she listened with changing colourand swelling bosom, her proud courage all gone, and only love,anxious and pitying, inside her eyes.