“I would like to think that it is,” he murmured wistfully. “Tell me, dearest, what put it into your head to make me so generous a present?”
“I—eh—” Judith’s native honesty would not permit an evasion. “I heard that you had met with reverses in business, Joe.”
Richards looked at her long and intently. “You heard?” he repeated. “Where?”
Judith raised a protesting finger. “‘Ask me no questions—’” she quoted, “you know the old saw, Joe”; and before he had time to frame another question, she asked reproachfully. “Why did you not come to me at once, Joe? I would gladly have helped.”
A dull red flush mounted almost to Richards’ forehead and he averted his eyes from her steady gaze.
“I can’t borrow from a woman, Judith—even the very best and dearest woman in the world,” he confessed. “Keep your money, sweetheart. My financial embarrassment was only temporary, but”—his voice deepened with emotion—“I prize your loyalty above all earthly things. Judith, I shall strive to be worthy of you,” and dropping on one knee he kissed her hand with fervor.
Judith saw his shapely head and fine features through a mist of tears. Her faith in him should stand all tests. In spite of what she had learned of the stolen bonds, he must be innocent—he was worthy of her trust, her love. Impulsively she leaned nearer and he caught her in passionate embrace.
The clock had ticked away fully an hour when Judith awoke to the time.
“It is almost midnight,” she exclaimed reproachfully and rose in haste. As she walked across the boudoir her attention was attracted by a package of addressed and stamped envelopes. “Oh, I forgot to give these to Maud to mail first thing in the morning, and they are important.”
“Let me have them.” Richards snatched them up. “There is a post box in front of the house; I’ll be right back.” And he hastened down the hall to the circular staircase.