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88 door. As his foot sounded upon the threshold, a young woman advanced from the dusky interior of the house, at first hastily, and then with a more uncertain step, till they met face to face. There was a singular contrast in their two figures: he dark and picturesque&mdash;one who had battled with the world, whom all suns had shone upon, and whom all winds had blown on a varied course; she neat, comely, and quiet&mdash;quiet even in her agitation, as if all her emotions had been subdued to the peaceful tenor of her life. Yet their faces, all unlike as they were, had an expression that seemed not so alien, a glow of kindred feeling flashing upward anew from half-extinguished embers.

&ldquo;You are welcome home!&rdquo; said Faith Egerton.

But Cranfield did not immediately answer; for his eye had been caught by an ornament in the shape of a Heart which Faith wore as a brooch upon her bosom. The material was the ordinary white quartz; and he recollected having himself shaped it out of one of those Indian arrowheads which are so often found in the ancient haunts of the red men. It was precisely on the pattern of that worn by the visionary Maid. When Cranfield departed on his shadowy search he had bestowed this brooch, in a gold setting, as a parting gift to Faith Egerton. &ldquo;So, Faith, you have kept the Heart! &rdquo; said he at length. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said she, blushing deeply; then more gayly, &ldquo;and what else have you brought me from beyond the sea?&rdquo; &ldquo;Faith!&rdquo; replied Ralph Cranfield, uttering the fated words by an uncontrollable impulse, &ldquo;I have brought you nothing but a heavy heart! May I rest its weight on you?&rdquo;