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A sudden movement stirred John’s frame, a sudden purpose shone in his countenance, and a sudden change befell his voice, as he said, producing from some hiding-place a little worn-out shoe,–

“I can supply the slipper;–who will try it first?”

Di’s black eyes opened wide, as they fell on the familiar object; then her romance-loving nature saw the whole plot of that drama which needs but two to act it. A great delight flushed up into her face, as she promptly took her cue, saying,–

“No need for us to try it, Laura; for it wouldn’t fit us, if our feet were as small as Chinese dolls’;–our parts are played out; therefore ‘Exeunt wicked sisters to the music of the wedding-bells.'” and pouncing upon the dismayed artist she swept her out and closed the door with a triumphant bang.

John went to Nan, and, dropping on his knee as reverently as the herald of the fairy tale, he asked, still smiling but with lips grown tremulous,–

“Will Cinderella try the little shoe, and–if it fits–go with the Prince?”

But Nan only covered up her face, weeping happy tears, while all the weary work strayed down upon the floor, as if it knew her holiday had come.

John drew the hidden face still closer, and while she listened to his eager words, Nan heard the beating of the strong man’s heart, and knew it spoke the truth.

“Nan, I promised mother to be silent till I was sure I loved you wholly,–sure that the knowledge would give no pain when I should tell it, as I am trying to tell it now. This little shoe has been my comforter through this long year, and I have kept it as other lovers keep their fairer favors. It has been a talisman more eloquent to me than flower or ring; for, when I saw how worn it was, I always though of the willing feet that came and went for others’ comfort all day long; when I saw the little bow you tied, I always though to the hands so diligent in serving any one who knew a want or felt a pain; and when I recalled the gentle creature who had worn it last, I always saw her patient, tender, and devout,–and tried to grow more worthy of her, that I might one day dare to ask if she would walk beside me all my life and be my ‘angel in the house.’ Will you, dear? Believe me, you shall never know a weariness of grief I have the power to shield you from.”

Then Nan, as simple in her love as in her life, laid her arms about his neck, her happy face against his own, and answered softly,–

“Oh, John, I never can be sad or tired any more!”