"And thus you see me on deck once more, a little the worse for wear perhaps, but ready to sail with you to-morrow, if you say the word," he ended.
"You are happy, Roderic?"
"Yes, God has been very, very good to me. I don't deserve it, cousin."
"You look forward to meeting Georgia in the island beyond the sea?"
"She has already started there, and it would be strange if we did not meet, either before or after San Juan falls into American hands."
"Is she—very beautiful, Roderic?"
"You shall say for yourself when you see her, for it is my fondest hope that you may be the dearest of friends. You will promise me that, Cleo?"
Again she resolutely thrust self aside.
"Whom you love must be a sister to me, cousin. Yes, I give you such a promise willingly."
The rebellion in her heart was kept down with a firm hand—what was human might struggle and cry out, but it could not overcome the divine element that came from Calvary—the desire to sacrifice self for the good of one beloved.