He sat down with her on the stone. The smoke began to rise from the chimneys of the town below, and soon the Dry Bench farm-houses showed signs of life. He pressed her cheek against his own. "Sweetheart," said he, "'When love has blended and molded two beings in an angelic and sacred union, they have found the secret of life; henceforth they are only the two terms of the same destiny, the two wings of one mind. Love and soar.' That is from Victor Hugo; how true it is." After a time they went down to the old home. A Mr. Temming was living there, as a renter. He was not acquainted with Mr. Ames, and was not disposed to show much courtesy, so they left. "What do you think of the place?" he asked. "I like it." "Could you live there?" "All my life, I could. Rupert, I see you in every tree, fence, and ditch." He laughed at that. "I can now buy the place. Shall I?" "Yes, do." "You don't object? Would you really like to live there?" "I think, my dear, that you can do much good here. We ought to live where we can do the most good." And so it was settled. Next day Rupert inquired after the owner of the farm which once was his, and learned that it was in the hands of a real estate dealer. He made his way to the office and knocked at the door, which was partly open. A man was sitting at a desk, but he evidently did not hear, so Rupert stepped into the room, at the same time giving the door another loud rap. Still the man did not hear. "Good morning, sir," said Rupert. The man turned. "Volmer, Volmer Holm, is it you?" "Rupert Ames, I'm pleased to see you. When did you come to town? Have a chair."