"No. Miss Wayland leaves to-night, and I shall never see her again."
"Then you won't marry her?"
"No."
A dull color rose to Cherry Malotte's cheeks; she swallowed as if her throat were very dry, and said, slowly:
"Then she refused you in spite of everything, and you have come to me because of what I told you this afternoon. You are doing this out of pity—or is it because you are angry with her? No, no, Boyd! I won't have it. I don't want your pity—I don't want what she cast off."
"It has taken me a long time to find myself, Cherry, for I have been blinded by a vision," he answered. "I have been dreaming, and I never saw clearly till to-day. I came away of my own free will; and I came straight to you because it is you I love and shall always love."
The girl suddenly began to beat her hands together.
"You—forget what I—have been!" she cried, in a voice that tore her lover's heartstrings. "You can't want to—marry me?"
"To-night," he said, simply, and held out his arms to her. "I love you and I want you. That is all I know or care about."
He found her upon his breast, sobbing and shaking as if she had sought shelter there from some great peril. He buried his face in the soft masses of her hair, whispering fondly to her till her emotion spent itself. She turned her face shyly up at length and pressed her lips to his. Then, holding herself away from him, she said, with a half-doubtful yet radiant look: