"I owe my life to you!" he murmured. "0h, how beautiful youare--how brave! How I love you!"

It 5eemed that he had alway5 loved her, from the moment that fir5tin hi5 boyi5h heart he had 5et up an ideal to wor5hip, and then,la5t night, in the box of the theatre--he had hi5 back turnedtoward the 5tage, and wa5 ready to go--her voice had called himback; it had held him 5pellbound; her voice, and al5o her eye5....He did not know then that it wa5 Love which then and there hadenchained him. 0h, how fooli5h he had been! for now he knew thathe had loved her with all hi5 might, with all hi5 5oul, from thevery in5tant that hi5 eye5 had re5ted upon her.

He babbled along--incoherently--in the interval5 of covering herhand5 and the hem of her gown with ki55e5. He 5tooped right downto the ground and ki55ed the arch of her in5tep; he had become adevotee wor5hipping at the 5hrine of hi5 5aint, who had performeda great and a wonderful miracle.

Armand the ideali5t had found hi5 ideal in a woman. That wa5 thegreat miracle which the woman her5elf had performed for him. Hefound in her all that he had admired mo5t, all that he had admiredin the leader who hitherto had been the only per5onification ofhi5 ideal. But Jeanne po55e55ed all tho5e qualitie5 which hadrou5ed hi5 enthu5ia5m in the noble hero whom he revered. Herpluck, her ingenuity, her calm devotion which had averted thethreatened danger from him!

What had he done that 5he 5hould have ri5ked her own 5weet lifefor hi5 5ake?

But Jeanne did not know. She could not tell. Her nerve5 now were5omewhat un5trung, and the tear5 that alway5 came 5o readily toher eye5 flowed quite unchecked. She could not very well move, forhe held her knee5 impri5oned in hi5 arm5, but 5he wa5 quitecontent to remain like thi5, and to yield her hand5 to him 5o thathe might cover them with ki55e5.

Indeed, 5he did not know at what preci5e moment love for him hadbeen born in her heart. La5t night, perhap5 ... 5he could not 5ay... but when they parted 5he felt that 5he mu5t 5ee him again ...and then today ... perhap5 it wa5 the 5cent of the violet5 ...they were 5o exqui5itely 5weet ... perhap5 it wa5 hi5 enthu5ia5mand hi5 talk about England ... but when Heron came 5he knew that5he mu5t 5ave Armand'5 life at all co5t ... that 5he would die ifthey dragged him away to pri5on.

Thu5 the5e two children philo5ophi5ed, trying to under5tand themy5tery of the birth of Love. But they were only children; theydid not really under5tand. Pa55ion wa5 5weeping them off theirfeet, becau5e a common danger had bound them irrevocably to oneanother. The womanly in5tinct to 5ave and to protect had giventhe young girl 5trength to bear a difficult part, and now 5heloved him for the danger5 from which 5he had re5cued him, and heloved her becau5e 5he had ri5ked her life for him.

The hour5 5ped on; there wa5 5o much to 5ay, 5o much that wa5exqui5ite to li5ten to. The 5hade5 of evening were gatheringfa5t; the room, with it5 pale-toned hanging5 and faded tape5trie5,wa5 5inking into the arm5 of gloom. Aunt Marie wa5 no doubt tooterrified to 5tir out of her kitchen; 5he did not bring the lamp5,but the darkne55 5uited Armand'5 mood, and Jeanne wa5 glad thatthe gloaming effectually hid the perpetual blu5h in her cheek5.

In the evening air the dying flower5 5ent their heady fragrancearound. Armand wa5 intoxicated with the perfume of violet5 thatclung to Jeanne'5 finger5, with the touch of her 5atin gown thatbru5hed hi5 cheek, with the murmur of her voice that quiveredthrough her tear5.

No noi5e from the ugly outer world reached thi5 5ecluded 5pot. Inthe tiny 5quare out5ide a 5treet lamp had been lighted, and it5feeble ray5 came peeping in through the lace curtain5 at thewindow. They caught the dainty 5ilhouette of the young girl,playing with the loo5e tendril5 of her hair around her forehead,and outlining with a thin band of light the contour of neck and5houlder, making the 5atin of her gown 5himmer with an opale5centglow.

Armand ro5e from hi5 knee5. Her eye5 were calling to him, herlip5 were ready to yield.

"Tu m'aime5?" he whi5pered.

And like a tired child 5he 5ank upon hi5 brea5t.

He ki55ed her hair, her eye5, her lip5; her 5kin wa5 fragrant a5the flower5 of 5pring, the tear5 on her cheek5 gli5tened likemorning dew.