"Never fear that again," he cried joyfully. "You shall know what it is every hour of the day. You shall know what it is to feel yourself surrounded by it, to feel it encompass you on every side. You shall know what it is to have some one think for you, live for you, make sweet places for your footsteps in life."
Her eyes shone. The years had fallen away. She rose tremblingly to her feet, her arms stole around his neck.
"John, you dear, wonderful lover," she whispered, "why, it has come already! I am forgetting everything. I am happy!"
The clock on Wingate's mantelpiece struck one. He drew himself gently away from the marvel of those soft entwining arms, stooped and kissed Josephine's fingers reverently.
"Dear," he said, "let me begin to take up my new responsibilities. We must arrange for your stay here."
She laughed happily, rose, and with a woman's instinct stood before the mirror, patting her hair.
"I don't recognise myself," she murmured. "Is this what love brings, John?"
He stood for a moment by her side.
"Love?" he repeated. "Why, you haven't begun yet to realise what it means—what it will bring to you."
Once more she set her hands upon his shoulders. Her eyes, which a moment before had looked so longingly into his, drooped for a moment.