“You understand”— she spoke softly— “you understand, it cannot happen now— perhaps not for another year. But now”— she drew a little nearer— “you may kiss me,” she said. “And then you must kiss little Isobel. And we don’t want you to go very far away again. It’s lonely— terribly lonely all by ourselves in the city— and we’re glad you’ve come— so glad—”
Her voice broke to a sobbing whisper, and as Billy opened his great, ragged arms and caught her to him he heard that whisper again, saying, “We’re glad— glad— glad you’ve come back to us.”
“And I— may— stay?”
She raised her face, glorious in its welcome.
“If you want me— still.”
At last he believed. But he could not speak. He bent his face to hers, and for a moment they stood thus, while from behind the shrubbery came the sound of little Isobel’s joyous laughter.