You have glorified me, dearest, by the
promise you made a week ago. I know that you will not renounce that
precious pledge. It is in your eyes now--the eyes I shall worship to the
end of eternity. Tell me, though, with your own lips, your own voice,
that you will be my wife, mine to hold forever."
For answer she placed her arms about his neck and buried her face
against his shoulder. There were tears in her gray eyes and there was a
sob in her throat. He held her close to his breast for an eternity, it
seemed to both, neither giving voice to the song their hearts were
singing. There was no other world than the fairy grotto.
"Sweetheart, I am asking you to make a great sacrifice," he said at
last, his voice hoarse but tender. She looked up into his face
serenely. "Can you give up the joys, the wealth, the comforts of that
home across the sea to share a lowly cottage with me and my love? Wait,
dear,--do not speak until I am through. You must think of what your
friends will say. The love and life I offer you now will not be like
that which you always have known. It will be poverty and the dregs, not
riches and wine. It will be--"
But she placed her hand upon his lips, shaking her head
emphatically. The picture he was painting was the same one that she had
studied for days and days. Its every shadow was familiar to her, its
every unwholesome corner was as plain as day.
Pages:
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342