Astral's school life is now over, and he is homeward bound. During all the years of his separation from Erma he has stifled with great effort the cry of his heart to make a bold declaration of love to her. But now the courage of desperation seizes him and he has made a solemn vow to declare his passion immediately upon his arrival at Richmond. The train that bore him on to Richmond, Astral was ready to swear before a notary public, was no faster than the slimy animal known as the snail. He grew to hate the brakeman who persisted in calling the name of every station save Richmond. Having once resolved upon making his declaration and ascertaining his fate, any person that would have suggested that patience ever possessed a virtue would have been in danger of incarceration in the insane asylum, if Astral's ardent wish could have accomplished that result. The train reaches Richmond at last. As soon as properly attired, he proceeds toward Erma's home, having given her due notice of his coming to see her.

Since the day of the intended hanging of her brother John, Erma has lived continuously at her own little home. Aunt Mollie Marston, who has now lost her husband, dwells there with her, and Erma has taken the place in her heart left vacant by Margaret's dropping out. Erma has told Mrs. Marston the secret of her love and informed her of Astral's intended visit. The dear old soul has done her best at dressing Erma for this occasion, and has retired to a back room to pray, while Erma sits in her cosy little parlor to receive Astral. For a while she indulges in a reverie, her mind going back over her past life. The thoughts are too sombre, however, and she dismisses them.

The twilight of a mild summer eve creeps over the earth. The evening star peeps above the horizon, in order to see and report as to whether the sky is clear of the sun, so that the timid moon may rise. Erma's parlor window, commanding a view of the street on which her home fronts, is thrown open, and Erma is stationed there; and, with her beautiful hands, is holding apart the thick-clustered vines, so that she may catch a glimpse of Astral when he reaches her gate. Erma is clad in black, which is only relieved by a lovely white ribbon about her neck, vying with her face as to beauty, but doing nothing more than enhancing the beauty of the face, by affording it this opportunity to triumph over such a lovely foe. Her hair was rolled in coils, and sat in grandeur on the rear of her head. A portion of her hair, cut short, was allowed to bend forward, as if threatening to hide her pretty, rounded forehead. This hair, standing guard over her bewitching eyebrows, was parted on one side, and added delightfully to the charm of Erma's face. Sitting sideways to the window, bending slightly forward, her small foot, incased in a low-quarter shoe, protruded slightly from her black silk skirt.

It was thus that Erma sat awaiting the coming of the man she loved so dearly, and to be worthy of whom she had suffered so much and toiled so hard. A slight cry escaped her lips. Astral is at her gate. He is changed, and for the better. His handsome face, a shade darker than that of Erma, has a splendid set of side-burns, something that was not the case when he went away. On his upper lip there rests a mustache that comports well with a set of thick eyebrows. The form is tall and manly. He is clad in a suit of beautiful black, and a brown felt hat rests on his full, large head. His look is more grave than when we last saw him. Astral's heart is beating a wild, tumultuous wedding march, and he cannot calm it, try as much as he may. He is now about to meet Erma, and though he has been planning his little speech for the occasion for years, it is now all gone from him, and he is trembling with excitement and abusing his mind for going to pieces just at the wrong time. Erma has arisen from her seat, and is walking about her room nervously, wondering how Astral is going to meet her, and what she is going to do and say.

How a painter would have gloried to have caught sight of this bundle of beautiful confusion! Astral rapped on the door, and his heart stood still. Erma opened it and stepped back to let Astral in. He looked at Erma and his heart gave a bound, as though to leave his body. Erma cast at Astral a timid glance which comprehended his entire frame and being in a flash, and her soul was satisfied with the verdict. Turning her head away somewhat bashfully, she said, "Walk in, Mr. Herndon." Astral followed Erma into the parlor. Erma had walked to the further side of the room, and was now turned with her face toward Astral. Poor girl! Her soul was in her eyes. She knew it, but could not avoid it. She tried to keep from looking at Astral, but she could not do that, either. Instead of sitting down, Astral started over toward Erma. With every step that he took his heart grew bolder, until when he came to the spot where she was, he threw an arm around her waist, strained her to his heaving bosom, and bent down to press a kiss upon her willing lips, and the years of waiting were over.