Would she not come to him?
And then of a sudden as she listened it came home to her that the man was Harold Denver, and that she was the woman, and that all God's work was very beautiful--the green sward beneath her feet, the rustling leaves, the long orange slashes in the western sky.

She spoke; she scarce knew what the broken words were, but she saw the light of joy shine out on his face, and her hand was still in his as they wandered amid the twilight.

They said no more now, but only wandered and felt each other's presence.

All was fresh around them, familiar and yet new, tinged with the beauty of their new-found happiness.
"Did you not know it before ?" he asked.

"I did not dare to think it." "What a mask of ice I must wear! How could a man feel as I have done without showing it?
Your sister at least knew." "Ida!" "It was last night.