"I only know I love you."

He folded her afresh in his strong embrace, and kissed her head as it

lay on his breast.

"Think again," he said. "A man's enemies can be merciless. They may

watch you and put pressure upon you, and even humiliate you for my

sake."

"No matter, I am not afraid," she answered, and again he tightened his

arms about her in a passionate embrace, and covered her hair and her

neck and her hands and her finger-tips with kisses.

They did not speak for a long time after that. There was no need for

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words. He was conquered, yet he was conqueror, and she was happy and at

peace. The long fight was over, and everything was well.

He put her to sit in a chair, and sat himself on the arm of it, with his

face to her face, and her arms still round his neck. It was like a

dream. She could scarcely believe it. He whom she had looked up to with

adoration was caressing her. She was like a child in her joy, blushing

and half afraid.

He ran his hand through her hair and kissed her forehead. She threw back

her head that she might put her lips to his forehead in return, and he

kissed her full, round throat.

Then they exchanged rings as the sign of their eternal union. When she

put her diamond ring, set in gold, on to his finger, he looked grave and

even sad; but when he put his plain silver one on to hers, she lifted up

her glorified hand to the light, and kissed and kissed it.

They began to talk in low tones, as if some one had been listening. It

was the whispering of their hearts, for the angel of happy love has no

voice louder than a whisper. She asked him to say again that he loved

her, but as soon as he began to say it she stopped his mouth with a

kiss.

They talked of their love. She was sure she had loved him before he

loved her, and when he said that he had loved her always, she protested

in that case he did not love her at all.

They rose at length to close the windows, and side by side, his arm

about her waist, her head leaning lightly on his shoulder, they stood

for a moment looking out. The mother of cities lay below in its

lightsome whiteness, and over the ridge of its encircling hills the glow

of the departing sun was rising in vaporous tints of amber and crimson

into the transparent blue, with the dome of St. Peter's, like a balloon

ready to rise into a celestial sky.




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