He wanted to lay it all before her, to say, “If you are pleased, I am happy.  If you are satisfied, then I am content.  It was done for you, and I am wholly yours, and all that I do is yours.”  And, as though in answer to his thoughts, there was an instant knock at the door, and Helen entered the room and stood smiling at him across the table.

Her eyes were lit with excitement, and spoke with many emotions, and her cheeks were brilliant with color.  He had never seen her look more beautiful.

“Why, Helen!” he exclaimed, “how good of you to come.  Is there anything wrong?  Is anything the matter?”

She tried to speak, but faltered, and smiled at him appealingly.

“What is it?” he asked in great concern.

Helen drew in her breath quickly, and at the same moment motioned him away—­and he stepped back and stood watching her in much perplexity.

With her eyes fixed on his she raised her hands to her head, and her fingers fumbled with the knot of her veil.  She pulled it loose, and then, with a sudden courage, lifted her hat proudly, as though it were a coronet, and placed it between them on his table.

“Philip,” she stammered, with the tears in her voice and eyes, “if you will let me—­I have come to stay.”

The table was no longer between them.  He caught her in his arms and kissed her face and her uncovered head again and again.  From outside the rain beat drearily and the fog rolled through the street, but inside before the fire the two young people sat close together, asking eager questions or sitting in silence, staring at the flames with wondering, happy eyes.

The Lion and the Unicorn saw them only once again.  It was a month later when they stopped in front of the shop in a four-wheeler, with their baggage mixed on top of it, and steamer-labels pasted over every trunk.

“And, oh, Prentiss!” Carroll called from the cab-window.  “I came near forgetting.  I promised to gild the Lion and the Unicorn if I won out in London.  So have it done, please, and send the bill to me.  For I’ve won out all right.”  And then he shut the door of the cab, and they drove away forever.

“Nice gal, that,” growled the Lion.  “I always liked her.  I am glad they’ve settled it at last.”

The Unicorn sighed sentimentally.  “The other one’s worth two of her,” he said.

THE LAST RIDE TOGETHER

A SKETCH CONTAINING THREE POINTS OF VIEW

What the Poet Laureate wrote.

  “There are girls in the Gold Reef City,
    There are mothers and children too! 
  And they cry ‘Hurry up for pity!’
    So what can a brave man do?

  “I suppose we were wrong, were mad men,
    Still I think at the Judgment Day,
  When God sifts the good from the bad men,
    There’ll be something more to say.”

What more the Lord Chief Justice found to say.