had glided, he took the maiden's hand in his, and quietly said—
"Here, Eva, were we betrothed, here let us renew our vow." For the first time he kissed the ruddy cheek, and felt the fountain of hope and joy unlocking again in his breast.
None could be much with Eva, much less love her, and be unhappy.
All the old vigour and joy returned to Travers' sunny face. His laugh rang high again. He went forth to charm by his very presence the simple folk, who would trust him now to the death.
Mrs. Travers was the light of the valley as of her old home. Her mother had her wish; though, sometimes, she would remove her spectacles and wipe, her scarce-dimmed eye, as she thought of her son-in-law's first love, who slept amongst the flowers on the oft-visited hill-top.
On his distant coral isle the brave doctor was not unhappy. All the charm that taste and art could lend to nature, was imparted to his island retreat. Seeds and plants from all the coral isles, frequent visitors brought him. His bungalow of books and bamboo house of curios and paintings were the admiration of Royal Navy captains, who ever contrived to have some business to transact at the "Fairy Island," as they re-named the desert rock he had converted into a garden of paradise.
The doctor's yachts and steam-launch lay safe within the coral-bound lagoon. Often he voyaged forth to meet the passing vessel of the "New Order" bringing him messages of love, and tokens from grateful hearts across the sea.
A bent, close-shaven, care-worn man on one occasion stepped on the beach from the boat of a passing vessel.
