bosom, and the jewelled coronet on your head; and no one will see the silk and the jewels and the lace, for looking at you and at the gift you bring.
"No, don't speak; it is my turn now to see the pictures. All will be yours, whatever you see and touch in those stately homes—for you will be the Lady Thryng, and, being the Lady Thryng, you will be no more wonderful or beautiful than you were when you climbed to me, following my flute notes, or when you bent between me and the fire preparing my supper, or when you were weaving at your loom, or when you came to me from our cabin door with your arms outstretched and the light of all the stars of heaven in your eyes."
Then they were silent, a long silence, until, seated together in their cabin before a bright log fire, as she held their baby to her breast, Cassandra broke the stillness.
"Now I see it better, David. As you came here and lived my life, and loved me just as I was—so to be truly one, I must go with you and live your life. I must not fail you there."
"You have been tried as by fire and have not failed—nor are you the kind of woman who ever fails."
Then she smiled up at him one of those rare and fleeting smiles that always touched David with poignant pleasure, and said: "I think I understand now. God meant us to feel this way, when he married us to each other."
The End.
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