Part 28 (1/2)

”Now,” said Lord Arleigh, triumphantly, ”you are my very own, nothing can separate us--that kiss seals our betrothal; you must forget all doubts, all fears, all hesitation, and only say to yourself that you are mine--all mine. Will you be happy, Madaline?”

She raised her eyes to his, her face bedewed with happy tears.

”I should be most ungrateful if I were not happy,” she replied; ”you are so good to me, Lord Arleigh.”

”You must not call me 'Lord Arleigh'--say 'Norman.'”

”Norman,” she repeated, ”you are so good to me.”

”I love you so well, sweet,” he returned.

The happy eyes were raised to his face.

”Will you tell me,” she asked, ”why you love me, Norman? I cannot think why it is. I wonder about it every day. You see girls a thousand times better suited to you than I am. Why do you love me so?”

”What a question to answer, sweet! How can I tell why I love you? I cannot help it; my soul is attracted to your soul, my heart to your heart, Madaline. I shall be unwilling to leave you again; when I go away from Verdun Royal, I shall want to take my wife with me.”

She looked at him in alarm.

”I am quite serious,” he continued. ”You are so sensitive, so full of hesitation, that, if I leave you, you will come to the conclusion that you have done wrong, and will write me a pathetic little letter, and go away.”

”No, I shall not do that,” she observed.

”I shall not give you a chance, my own; I shall neither rest myself nor let any one else rest until you are my wife. I will not distress you now by talking about it. I shall go to the d.u.c.h.ess to-day, and tell her that you have relented in my favor at last; then you will let us decide for you, Madaline, will you not?”

”Yes,” she replied, with a smile; ”it would be useless for me to rebel.”

”You have made some very fatal admissions,” he said, laughingly. ”You have owned that you love me; after that, denial, resistance, coyness, shyness, nothing will avail. Oh, Madaline, I shall always love this spot where I won you! I will have a picture of this brook-side painted some day. We must go back to the house now; but, before we go, make me happy; tell me of your own free will that you love me.”

”You know I do. I love you, Norman--I will say it now--I love you ten thousand times better than my life. I have loved you ever since I first saw you; but I was afraid to say so, because of--well, you know why.”

”You are not afraid now, Madaline?”

”No, not now,” she replied; ”you have chosen me from all the world to be your wife. I will think of nothing but making you happy.”

”In token of that, kiss me--just once--of your own free will.”

”No,” she refused, with a deep blush.

”You will, if you love me,” he said; and then she turned her face to his. She raised her pure, sweet lips to his and kissed him, blus.h.i.+ng as she did so to the very roots of her golden hair.

”You must never ask me to do that again,” she said, gravely.

”No,” returned he; ”it was so remarkably unpleasant, Madaline, I could not wish for a repet.i.tion;” and then they went back to the house together.

”Norman,” said Madaline, as they stood before the great Gothic porch, ”will you wait until to-morrow before you tell the d.u.c.h.ess?”

”No,” he laughed, ”I shall tell her this very day.”