before he had gained strength to speak aloud. And his deep tones,
when she heard them, were like no voice that had fallen on her ear
till then. The first thing that indicated restoring health was
his request that his beard might be trimmed; and he was making love
to her three days after he had been declared out of danger. Then
did Mary begin to live, and looking back, she marvelled how horses
and dogs and a fishing-rod had been her life till now. The
revelation bewildered her and she wrote her emotions in many long
pages to her cousin. The causes of such changes she did not indeed
specify, but he read between the lines, and knew it was a man and
not the war that had so altered and deepened her outlook. He had
never done it, and he could not be angry with her now, for she had
pretended no ardor of emotion to him. Young though he was, he
always feared that she liked him not after the way of a lover. He
had hoped to open her eyes some day, but it was given to another to
do so.

He felt no surprise, therefore, when news of her engagement reached
him from herself. He wrote the letter of his life in reply, and
was at pains to laugh at their boy-and-girl attachment, and lessen
any regret she might feel on his account. Her father took it
somewhat hardly at first, for he held that more than sufficient
misfortunes, to correct the balance of prosperity in his favor,
had already befallen him. But he was deeply attached to his
daughter, and her magical change under the new and radiant
revelation convinced him that she had now awakened to an emotional
fulness of life which could only be the outward sign of love. That
she was in love for the first time also seemed clear; but he would
not give his consent until he had seen her lover and heard all
there was to know about him. That, however, did not alarm Mary,