Ruth's Confession

It was but a moment till she returned ready for a walk, and together they sauntered toward the bluff, where she seated herself on a great rock. Sitting at her feet, his head resting against the rock, his hand raised to clasp hers, he was content. For a while they sat in silence, gazing far out over the sea into the glory of the sunset. At last she loosed her hand from his grasp and rested it lightly on his head.

"Mark, dear, you know that there are to be no secrets between us two now, don't you?"

He looked up and answered promptly. "Not one--not a single one, for all the days of the future, my darling. But," he added, "I have none that are unrevealed."

"I am not so fortunate, dear. I have a great one, and now I am going to tell it all to you."

"But--"

"No, let me do all the talking until you hear it to the end, and let me tell it in my own way."

"All right," and he pressed her hand lovingly.

"I never knew my father, Mark," she went on, "and yet I heard of his death only a short time ago--in Washington. His name was not 'Atheson.' He was a very great personage, no less than the Grand Duke of Ecknor, Prince Etkar."

Mark started, but Ruth put up her hand. "You promised. Let me go on."