"Are you glad, Arthur?"
"Oh, so glad, and grateful! And the same hand wrote me the generous warning against that wretched Greer?"
"Yes, Arthur. Father came home from that first trial distressed about you, and I wrote it. I thought you would not know the hand."
"I did not—though when your letter came to me in Jefferson, the address reminded me of it. But I did not think you wrote it. And when rumors were abroad of my connection with these men, after I went to Albany, who was it who sent somebody to Ravenna, to get a contradiction from Greer, himself?"
"No one sent anybody: some one went," in the lowest little voice.
"Oh, Julia! did you go, yourself?"
"Yes."
"With the love of such a woman, what may not a man do?" cried Bart, with enthusiasm. "Julia, I suspect more—that I owe all and everything to you."
"You saved my life, Arthur, and will you not take little things from me?"
"I owe you for all the love and happiness of all my future, Julia, and for the stimulus that has made me work these three years. You love me; and love takes from love, and gives all it can and has, and is content."