And to them both it seemed, that a little of the joy and beatitude of heaven had come down to them on the golden sunset clouds.
"And so it was you, Patty," Philip says again, "who sang that very song that evening—how long ago it seems, dear—at the Folly; and it was your presence and your personality that influenced me so strongly, that drew me to you as Adèle Lamien, and yet that perplexed and troubled and almost frightened me?"
"Yes, Philip, it was I," she answered. "And, do you know, through all my trickery and deceiving, it gave me keen delight to see how truly you did love me; for, after all, Philip, even as Adèle Lamien, when I won your half avowal of love, I was scarcely treacherous, because it could be no treachery for Patty, to win you from—Patricia Hildreth."
It was specious reasoning mayhap, but it served.
It was Miss Hildreth's old mocking laugh that next broke the silence, and Miss Hildreth's most tantalising voice that said:
"Ah, but Philip, there is one thing more that lies between us. Do you remember a certain evening ten years ago, when an angry lover parted from his fickle sweetheart? And do you remember his words when she begged for one little good-bye token? 'When I can think of you, look at you, speak of you as other men do; when all my love is dead; ask me then, Patricia.'"
"And do you ask me?" he cried, a little of the old masterful ring in his voice. "Nay, Patty, do not ask me, for that supposes it possible for me to refuse you. My dearest, let me rather plead from you."
And there was that within her eyes that gave him leave to gather her close into his arms, and bending down to lay his lips on hers.
And so, after ten years, the kiss was given and taken.
THE END.