She withdrew her hand and rose and looked away toward the western hills.
"The greatest romance in the world is here, Shirley. I have dreamed it all over,--in the Canadian woods, on the Montana ranch as I watched the herd at night. My father spent his life keeping a king upon his throne; but I believe there are higher things and finer things than steadying a shaking throne or being a king. And the name that has meant nothing to me except dominion and power,--it can serve no purpose for me to take it now. I learned much from the poor Archduke; he taught me to hate the sham and shame of the life he had fled from. My father was the last great defender of the divine right of kings; but I believe in the divine right of men. And the dome of the Capitol in Washington does not mean to me force or hatred or power, but faith and hope and man's right to live and do and be whatever he can make himself. I will not go back or take the old name unless,--unless you tell me I must, Shirley!"
There was an instant in which they both faced the westering sun. He looked down suddenly and the deep feeling in his heart went to his lips.
"It was that way,--you were just like that when I saw you first, Shirley, with the dreams in your eyes."
He caught her hand and kissed it,--bending very low indeed. Suddenly, as he stood erect, her arms were about his neck and her cheek with its warmth and color lay against his face.
"I do not know,"--and he scarcely heard the whispered words,--"I do not know Frederick Augustus von Stroebel,--but I love--John Armitage," she said.
Then back across the meadow, through the rose-aisled ways of the quiet garden, they went hand in hand together and answered the Baron's question.