"I heard what she said," Kathleen answered, shuddering, and Ralph Chainey put his arm about her and drew her closer, murmuring:
"Did you hear what I said, too, my bonnie Kathleen?"
"Yes," she answered, trembling in a sort of ecstasy and feeling warm blushes redden her cheeks as she whispered:
"You kissed me—you wept over me—you—said—said—that you loved me!"
"And you, sweet Kathleen? Were you vexed at me for my presumption?" questioned the young man, drawing her closer with a fond but reverent arm.
"No; oh, no!" faltered the girl, shyly, yet blissfully.
"And you will let me tell you the same thing over, darling Kathleen, that I worship you, and you will promise me, dear, to be my own sweet wife? Yes, is it not, my own one? There, do not draw away from me in fear. One kiss, my own love, my beautiful treasure, given back to me from the grave itself!"
Then one kiss became a dozen. He pressed her close to his heart, and she rested there with a blissful sigh, happy in this haven of rest.
Presently: