her father, for the change of scene would do her good, and take her mind off the terrible experiences of last night.
So that day we rested. The next morning Andy was to drive Joyce and Norah and myself off to Galway, en route for London and Paris.
In the afternoon Norah and I strolled out together for one last look at the beautiful scene from our tablerock in the Cliff Fields. Close as we had been hitherto, there was now a new bond between us; and when we were out of sight of prying eyes—on the spot where we had first told our loves, I told her of my idea of the new bond. She hung down her head, but drew closer to me as I told her how much more I valued my life since she had saved it for me—and how I should in all the two years that were to come try hard that every hour should be such as she would like me to have passed.
"Norah, dear!" I said, "the bar you place on our seeing each other in all that long time will be hard to bear, but I shall know that I am enduring for your sake." She turned to me, and with earnest eyes looked lovingly into mine as she said:—
"Arthur! dear Arthur, God knows I love you! I love you so well that I want to come to you, if I can, in such a way that I may never do you discredit; and I am sure that when the two years are over—and, indeed, they will not go lightly for me—you will not be sorry that you have made the sacrifice for me. Dear! I shall
