a sobbing sigh escaped her.

"What is it?" he asked, drawing her down to a seat beside him. "Are you
tired of me already, love?"

"Not of you; of waiting," she answered, half shyly meeting his look.

"I hardly expected this," he said after a pause; "has your father flown
bodily from the enemy and left you to face him alone?"

"Not exactly. But really it was kind of him to keep away for a while, was
it not?" she asked simply.

"It was unusually kind. I suppose, however, you will have to make your
exit on his entrance."

"No," she laughed quietly; "I am going to play the r"le of the audience
to-night. He expressly desires my presence; but if you differ--"

He looked at her curiously. The earnestness with which she had greeted him
settled like a mask upon his face. The hand that held hers drew it quickly
to his breast.

"I think it is well that you remain," he said, "because we agree at any
rate on the main point, --that we love each other. Always that, darling?"

"Always that--love."

The low, sweet voice that for the first time so caressed him thrilled him
oddly; but a measured step was heard in the hall, and Ruth moved like a