There was a rough, short ladder hard by, where Tom Croftly had helped to nail up the blossoming roses, close round Sweet Mace’s panes; and Gil seized these rough garden steps as he stopped beneath, gazing with all his soul at the face of her he loved.
Was it a dream, or was it honest truth? Did he breathe and live and hear? Was he blind, or was she leaning out towards him, with outstretched hands, as her dear voice whispered with all the passion of her old, old love, the one word—“Gil?”
“Mace!” he cried, and with a bound he sprang to her side, to clasp her to his breast, as her own soft, round arms drew his face closer—closer to hers, and their lips met in one long, loving kiss.
Miracle? Merely such a one as love might perform; and when—how much later no one knew—the founder and Master Peasegood came slowly up, they saw and heard enough to make the latter’s heart swell with joy as the father sank upon his knees in thankfulness for the blessing that had come at last.
The End.
| [a]Chapter 1] | | [a]Chapter 2] | | [a]Chapter 3] | | [a]Chapter 4] | | [a]Chapter 5] | | [a]Chapter 6] | | [a]Chapter 7] | | [a]Chapter 8] | | [a]Chapter 9] | | [a]Chapter 10] | | [a]Chapter 11] | | [a]Chapter 12] | | [a]Chapter 13] | | [a]Chapter 14] | | [a]Chapter 15] | | [a]Chapter 16] | | [a]Chapter 17] | | [a]Chapter 18] | | [a]Chapter 19] | | [a]Chapter 20] | | [a]Chapter 21] | | [a]Chapter 22] | | [a]Chapter 23] | | [a]Chapter 24] | | [a]Chapter 25] | | [a]Chapter 26] | | [a]Chapter 27] | | [a]Chapter 28] | | [a]Chapter 29] | | [a]Chapter 30] | | [a]Chapter 31] | | [a]Chapter 32] | | [a]Chapter 33] | | [a]Chapter 34] | | [a]Chapter 35] | | [a]Chapter 36] | | [a]Chapter 37] | | [a]Chapter 38] | | [a]Chapter 39] | | [a]Chapter 40] | | [a]Chapter 41] | | [a]Chapter 42] | | [a]Chapter 43] | | [a]Chapter 44] | | [a]Chapter 45] | | [a]Chapter 46] | | [a]Chapter 47] | | [a]Chapter 48] | | [a]Chapter 49] | | [a]Chapter 50] | | [a]Chapter 51] | | [a]Chapter 52] | | [a]Chapter 53] | | [a]Chapter 54] | | [a]Chapter 55] | | [a]Chapter 56] |