In response to a low knock Mildred opened the door, and found herself in the arms of her lover.  Then he held her off and looked at her earnestly.  “Oh, Millie!” he exclaimed, “you have only grown more beautiful, more womanly in these long, weary years.  Your face is the reflex of the letters on which I have lived, and which gave me the power to live.”

Then in the excess of his joy he sank into a chair, and, putting his hand upon his heart, looked very pale.  She sprang to his side in alarm.  “Don’t worry, Millie,” he said, taking her hand.  “It’s passing.  I don’t have them very often now.  I’m much better, thanks to you.  Happiness rarely kills.”

It was well that Mrs. Wheaton and the children were out.  This scene would have been a great shock to the good woman, for she was Roger’s ally, heart and soul, and did not even know of Arnold’s existence.  Since Arnold and Mildred were so fortunate as to be alone, they talked frankly over their old happy days, and as far as she could without breaking her promise to Roger, Mildred spoke of the deep sorrows which had almost overwhelmed her during his absence.

“How my heart aches for you!” Arnold said.  “I never realized before what sad experiences you have passed through.  The part which I can’t endure is that I have been of no help to you.  On the contrary, you reached out this little hand and saved me.  Everything has been just the opposite of what it ought to have been, and even now in these surroundings you are like a diamond in a dust-heap.  Oh, how different it would all be if I had my way!” and he in turn told her quite frankly how he was situated.

“Vinton,” she said earnestly, “you must do all in your power to grow strong and make a place for yourself in the world.  As you say, I cannot punish you for the pride and hostility of your parents; I don’t think of them, and I could never take any favors at their hands.  As a man you have the right to choose for yourself, and can do so while maintaining the utmost courtesy and respect toward your family.  I don’t fear poverty—­I’m used to it.  The thing for you to do is to find some honest work that won’t tax you too greatly, and gain strength in its performance.”

“Oh, Millie, how strong and true you are!  I will take your advice in this as in all respects.  But we shall have to wait a long time, I fear.  I have so little knowledge of business, and I think my father, influenced by my mother, will thwart rather than help me.”

“Very well, I can wait,” she answered smilingly.  “Indeed I’d rather wait.”

Now that her happiness seemed assured, however, she sighed over Roger so often and remorsefully that at last Arnold said,

“You have some trouble on your mind, Millie?”

“You must not expect to find me a light-hearted girl any more,” she replied evasively.

“Well,” he said, as he clasped her closely in farewell, “my every waking thought shall now be how best to banish sighs and bring smiles.”