All at once she heard a footstep. Not the one she dreaded, but the slow, faltering walk of some person who hesitated, or paused, perhaps, for breath.
Up to her feet the girl sprang, leaned forward, and listened, holding down her heart with both trembling hands, and checking the breath on her parted lips.
The door opened softly.
"Ruth!"
She sprang forward, her arms outstretched, a glorious smile transfiguring her face.
"Oh, my beloved! My husband!"
She led him to the little couch on which so many bitter tears had told of her misery. He was worn out with walking, and fell upon it, smiling as she raised his head from the cushions, and pillowed it on her bosom, folding in his weakness with her young arms.
"It may kill me, but I could not keep away. Oh, my darling, how I have longed for a sight of you!" said the young husband.
Ruth gathered him closer in her arms, and, forgetting everything but his presence, kissed the very words from his smiling lips.
"Ah, you have come. It is enough! It is enough!"