Again that unfamiliar sentiment––nay, rather, that sentiment long dormant––stirred within him. Again his worldly concepts, long entrenched, instantly rose to meet and overthrow it. He had not yet learned to analyze the thoughts which crept so silently into his ever-open mentality. To all alike he gave free access. And to those which savored of things earthy he still gave the power to build, with himself as a willing tool.
“You will––help me––to live?” he said. He thought her the most gloriously beautiful object he had ever known, as she sat there before him, so simply gowned, and yet clothed with that which all the gold of Ophir could not have bought.
“Yes, gladly––oh, so gladly!” Her eyes sparkled with a rush of tears.
“Don’t you think,” he said gently, drawing his chair a little closer to her, “that we have quite misunderstood each other? I am sure we have.”
“Perhaps so,” she answered thoughtfully. “But,” with a happy smile again lighting her features, “we can understand each other now, can’t we?”
“Of course we can! And hasn’t the time come for us to work together, instead of continuing to oppose each other?”
“Yes! yes, indeed!” she cried eagerly.
“I––I have been thinking so ever since I returned yesterday from Washington. I am––I––”
“We need each other, don’t we?” the artless girl exclaimed, as she beamed upon him.