Ruth's Confession

Late that afternoon Mark sat alone in the great library at Killimaga, his head thrown back, his hands grasping the top of his chair. His thoughts were of the future, and he did not hear the light footsteps behind him. Then--two soft arms stole lightly around his neck, and Ruth's beautiful head was bowed until her lips touched his forehead. It was a kiss of benediction, speaking of things too holy for words.

He covered her hands with his own. "Ruth." The tones breathed a world of love.

"I am so happy," she murmured.

He started to rise, but one small hand, escaping from his grasp, rested on his head and held him firmly.

"I have a great deal to tell you, Mark. But first I want you to know how happy I am that you have come back to Mother Church. I have been praying so hard, Mark, and I should have been miserable had you refused to return. Our union would never have been perfect without full harmony of thought, and we might have drifted apart. But I am happy now." Lightly her fingers stroked his brow and twined among his curls.

He arose and, clasping her hands in both his own, he gazed down into her eyes.

"And I too am happy, dear one. You have brought me two blessings: I have found not only love, but peace at last after many years." Tenderly he raised her hands to his lips. "But come, dear; it is too glorious a day to remain in the house. Shall we go outside?"