“I’ve nothing to tell,” he said.  “I lost Mother, so I went on without her.  I learned to spell, and a great many other things, and I’m still making money.  I never forget you for a day; I never have loved and never shall love any other woman.  That’s all about me, in a nutshell; now go on and tell me a volume, tell me all night, about you.  Heavens, woman, I wish you could see yourself, in that dress with the moon on your hair.  Kate, you are the superbest thing!  I always shall be mad about you.  Oh, if only you could have had a little patience with me.  I thought I couldn’t learn, but of course I could.  But, proceed!  I mustn’t let myself go.”

Kate leaned back and looked a long time at the shining white waves and the deep blue sky, then she turned to John Jardine, and began to talk.  She told him simply a few of the most presentable details of her life:  how she had lost her money, then had been given her mother’s farm, about the children, and how she now lived.  He listened with deep interest, often interrupting to ask a question, and when she ceased talking he said half under his breath:  “And you’re now free!  Oh, the wonder of it!  You’re now, free!”

Kate had that night to think about the remainder of her life.  She always sincerely hoped that the moonlight did not bewitch her into leading the man beside her into saying things he seemed to take delight in saying.

She had no idea what time it was; in fact, she did not care even what Nancy Ellen thought or whether she would worry.  The night was wonderful; John Jardine had now made a man of himself worthy of all consideration; being made love to by him was enchanting.  She had been occupied with the stern business of daily bread for so long that to be again clothed as other women and frankly adored by such a man as John Jardine was soul satisfying.  What did she care who worried or what time it was?

“But I’m keeping you here until you will be wet with these mists,” John Jardine cried at last.  “Forgive me, Kate, I never did have any sense where you were concerned!  I’ll take you back now, but you must promise me to meet me here in the morning, say at ten o’clock.  I’ll take you back now, if you’ll agree to that.”

“There’s no reason why I shouldn’t,” said Kate.

“And you’re free, free!” he repeated.

The veranda, halls, and ballroom were deserted when they returned to the hotel.  As Kate entered her room, Nancy Ellen sat up in bed and stared at her sleepily, but she was laughing in high good humour.  She drew her watch from under her pillow and looked at it.

“Goodness gracious, Miss!” she cried.  “Do you know it’s almost three o’clock?”

“I don’t care in the least,” said Kate, “if it’s four or five.  I’ve had a perfectly heavenly time.  Don’t talk to me.  I’ll put out the light and be quiet as soon as I get my dress off.  I think likely I’ve ruined it.”