* * * * *
"Boy," whispered Edith, shrinking from him. "Oh, Boy! The whole world lies between you and me!"
His only answer was to hold her closer still, to turn her mouth again to his. "Not to-night," he breathed, with his lips on hers. "God has given us to-night!"
White and shaken, but with her eyes shining like stars, at last she broke away from him. She turned toward the house, but he caught her and held her back.
"Say it," he pleaded. "Say you love me!"
"I do," she whispered. "Oh, have pity, and let me go!"
"And I," he answered, with his face illumined, "love you with all my heart and soul and strength and will--with every fibre of my being, for now and for ever. I am yours absolutely, while earth holds me, and even beyond that."
What Matters
Edith looked up quickly, half afraid. His eyes were glowing with strange, sweet fires.
"Say it!" he commanded. "Tell me you are mine!"
"I am," she breathed. "God knows I am, but no--I had forgotten for the moment!"
She broke into wild sobbing, and he put his arm around her with infinite tenderness. "Hush," he said, as one might speak to a child. "What has been does not matter--nothing matters now but this. In all the ways of Heaven, you are mine--mine for always, by divine right!"
"Yes," she said, simply, and lifted her tear-stained face to his.
He kissed her again, not with passion, but with that same indescribable tenderness. Neither said a word. They went into the house together, he found her candle, lighted it, and gave it to her.
She took it from him, smiling, though her hands trembled. Back in the shadow he watched her as she ascended, with a look of exaltation upon her face. Crimson petals were falling all around her, and he saw the stain of the rose upon her white gown, where he had crushed it against her heart.
Neither slept, until the tide of the night began to turn. Swiftly, to her, through the throbbing, living darkness, came a question and a call.
Peace
"Mine?"
Back surged the unmistakable answer: "Thine." Then, to both, came dreamless peace.