Once seated opposite each other in the little office, an awkward silence fell upon the two young people.
“I am so glad nothing dreadful happened to you, Tom.” Grace at last broke the silence. “Those expeditions are very hazardous. I thought of you often and wondered if you were well.” There was a wistful note in her voice of which she was utterly unconscious, but it was not lost on Tom.
“Grace,” he said tensely, “did you really miss me?” He leaned forward, his face very close to hers. His eager eyes forced the truth.
“More than I can say, Tom,” she answered in a low tone.
Tom caught her hands in his. She did not draw them away. “How much does that mean, Grace? I know I vowed never to open the subject to you again, but I never saw that look in your eyes before, and you never let me hold your hands like this. Which is to be, dear; work or love?”
“Love,” was the half-whispered answer. And the gate of happiness, so long barred to Tom Gray, was opened wide.