genuinely frightened, she groped her way towards the electric switch. In
doing so she stumbled against the bed, and her hand fell on Austin's
shoulder. He was kneeling there, his whole body shaking, his head buried
in his arms. Instantly she was on her knees beside him.

"My darling boy, what is it? Austin, _don't_! You'll break my heart."

"The marvel is--if I haven't--just now. I told your uncle that I was
afraid I would some time--that I knew I hadn't any right to you. But I
didn't think--that even I was bad enough--to fail you--like _this_--"

"You _haven't_ failed me--you _have_ a right to me--I never loved you
so much in all my life--" she hurried on, almost incoherently, searching
for words of comfort. "Dearest--will it make you feel any better--if I
say I'll marry you--right away?"

"What do you mean? When?"

"To-night, if you like. Oh, Austin, I love you so that it doesn't matter
a bit--whether I'm afraid or not. The only thing that really counts--is
to have you happy! And since I've realized that--I find that I'm not
afraid of anything in the whole world--and that I want to belong to you
as much--and as soon--as you can possibly want to have me!"

* * * * *

It was many months before Hamstead stopped talking about the "Graduation
Ball of that year." It surpassed, to an almost extraordinary degree, any
that had ever been held there. But the event upon which the village best
loved to dwell was the entrance of Sylvia Cary, the loveliest vision it