bruised for lost sleep.

"Dearest and kindest friend! When I think what you have done for
me--that you faced shame worse than death--guarded by unprovable
honor--John! John!"

"Why, you mustn't, honey--you mustn't do that! Why, Stella, you're
crying--for me! You mustn't do that, Little Next Door!"

"If you had been killed, taking Chris--or after you gave him up--no
one but me would have ever believed but that you meant it."

"But you believed, Stella?"

"Oh, I knew! I knew!"

"Even when you first heard of it?"

"I never doubted you--not one instant! I knew what you meant to do.
You knew I loved him. The led horse was for you. I thought Chris would
be gone. Why, John Wesley, I have known you all my life! You couldn't
do that! You couldn't! Oh, kiss me, kiss me--faithful John!"

But he bent and kissed her hands--lest, looking into his eyes, she
should read in the book of his life one long, long chapter--that bore
her name.


THE END