"Never fear," she said, "it's not for the woman to blab. No, the world is all for the man, and the law too. Men make the laws and women suffer under them—that's the way of it."
The girl laughed again, and continued in mocking tones, "'Poor fellow, he's been sorely tempted,' says the world; 'Tut on her, never name her,' says the law."
And once more the girl forced a hollow, bitter laugh.
Just then a child's silvery voice was heard in the street beneath. The blithe call was—
"Sweet violets and primroses the sweetest."
The little feet tripped under the window. The loom stopped, and they listened. Then Christian looked into the young woman's face, and blinding tears rose on the instant into the eyes of both.
"Mona!" he cried, in low passionate tones, and opened his arms. There was an unspeakable language in her face. She turned her head toward him longingly, yearningly, with heaving breast. He took one
