“I have known that always,” Katrine answered.

“And still you prefer to marry me?”

She was standing at a little distance from him, and as their eyes met she nodded her curly head quickly, as a child might have done.

“Ah,” he cried, opening his arms to her, “come to me, come to me, you divine little soul!  I’m not worthy, but God knows how I will try to be!”

And a little later:  “It is cold for you here,” he said.  “Shall we go in, Mrs. Francis Ravenel?”

THE END