"It was better, darling," said he, drawing her nearer to him. "You were quite right. I could not bear the idea of any one being free to speak to me as your aunt did; but I was very unhappy. How could I know that you were coming here so soon?"
"I did not know," she said simply. "But I was very unhappy, too, and the days seemed so long. I could worship my brother for bringing it about."
"So could I," answered Paul, rather absently. He was looking down into her eyes that met his so trustfully. "Do you really and truly believe in me, Hermione?" he asked.
"Indeed I do; I always did!" she cried passionately. Then he kissed her very tenderly, and held her in his arms.
"Thank you,—thank you, my darling," he murmured in her ear.
Presently they stood by the chimney-piece, still holding each other's hands.
"I must speak to your father," he said. "You know his way. He wrote all about it to Griggs, telling him to show me the letter."
"I could not keep the secret to myself any longer," she answered. "And I knew that papa loved me and liked you."
"Yes, dear, you were quite right," said Paul. "But I did not mean to tell him, after what happened that evening, until I had found my brother. Do you know? I have almost found him. I hope to reach the end in a day or two."
"Oh, Paul! that is splendid!" cried Hermione. "I knew you would. You must tell me all about it."