Part 42 (1/2)

”I have longed so to hold you in my arms, Beverly--even when you were a princess and I lay in the hospital at Ganlook, my fevered arms hungered for you. There never has been a moment that my heart has not been reaching out in search of yours. 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 wors.h.i.+p 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 hoa.r.s.e 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.

”The rest of the world may think what it likes, Paul,” she said. ”It will make no difference to me. I have awakened from my dream. My dream prince is gone, and I find that it's the real man that I love. What would you have me do? Give you up because you are poor? Or would you have me go up the ladder of fame and prosperity with you, a humble but adoring burden? I know you, dear. You will not always be poor. They may say what they like. I have thought long and well, because I am not a fool. It is the American girl who marries the t.i.tled foreigner without love that is a fool. Marrying a poor man is too serious a business to be handled by fools. I have written to my father, telling him that I am going to marry you,” she announced. He gasped with unbelief.

”You have--already?” he cried.

”Of course. My mind has been made up for more than a week. I told it to Aunt f.a.n.n.y last night.”

”And she?”

”She almost died, that's all,” said she unblus.h.i.+ngly. ”I was afraid to cable the news to father. He might stop me if he knew it in time. A letter was much smarter.”

”You dear, dear little sacrifice,” he cried tenderly. ”I will give all my life to make you happy.”

”I am a soldier's daughter, and I can be a soldier's wife. I have tried hard to give you up, Paul, but I couldn't. You are love's soldier, dear, and it is a--a relief to surrender and have it over with.”

They fell to discussing plans for the future. It all went smoothly and airily until he asked her when he should go to Was.h.i.+ngton to claim her as his wife. She gave him a startled, puzzled look.

”To Was.h.i.+ngton?” she murmured, turning very cold and weak. ”You--you won't have to go to Was.h.i.+ngton, dear; I'll stay here.”

”My dear Beverly, I can afford the trip,” he laughed. ”I am not an absolute pauper. Besides, it is right and just that your father should give you to me. It is the custom of our land.” She was nervous and uncertain.

”But--but, Paul, there are many things to think of,” she faltered.

”You mean that your father would not consent?”

”Well,--he--he might be unreasonable,” she stammered. ”And then there are my brothers, Keith and Dan. They are foolishly interested in me.

Dan thinks no one is good enough for me. So does Keith. And father, too, for that matter,--and mother. You see, it's not just as if you were a grand and wealthy n.o.bleman. They may not understand. We are southerners, you know. Some of them have peculiar ideas about--”

”Don't distress yourself so much, dearest,” he said with a laugh. ”Though I see your position clearly--and it is not an enviable one.”

”We can go to Was.h.i.+ngton just as soon as we are married,” she compromised. ”Father has a great deal of influence over there. With his help behind you you will soon be a power in the United--” but his hearty laugh checked her eager plotting. ”It's nothing to laugh at, Paul,” she said.

”I beg your pardon a thousand times. I was thinking of the disappointment I must give you now. I cannot live in the United States--never. My home is here. I am not born for the strife of your land. They have soldiers enough and better than I. It is in the turbulent east that we shall live--you and I.” Tears came into her eyes.

”Am I not to--to go back to Was.h.i.+n'ton?” She tried to smile.

”When Prince Dantan says we may, perhaps.”

”Oh, he is my friend,” she cried in great relief. ”I can get any favor I ask of him. Oh, Paul, Paul, I know that my folks will think I'm an awful fool, but I can't help it. I shall let you know that I intend to be a blissful one, at least.”

He kissed her time and again, out there in the dark, soft light of the fairy grotto.