"Winifred asthore machree!"
Winifred looked at him long and strangely for a few seconds, then she abandoned her perilous perch and came running down to him swift as a bird upon the wing. Nature was speaking very loud in her heart. Roderick stood waiting for her, holding out both his hands. He took her slender ones and held them, looking at her with a long, long look of tender affection; then, releasing his right hand, he took from his watch chain a locket and opened it. Within, I learned later, was a beautiful miniature on ivory. Winifred gave a swift, startled cry of joy:
"The lady in yellow—oh, it is the beautiful lady!"
"And I am the dark gentleman, my little one," Roderick whispered. "Do you know who he was?"
"Yes," said Winifred, looking up into his face: "he was my father."
"Have you forgiven him for being cross and slamming the door?"
She nodded gravely.
"And are you going to love him—to love me very much?"
For answer, Winifred threw her arms round his neck, weeping for very joy.
At that moment I left them, and they followed slowly up to the castle, Winifred clinging to her father's arm and telling him how she had loved him almost from the first. And now a happy and complete confidence was already established between them.