Alden smiled at the swift anti-climax, then his face grew grave again. He packed the few dishes in the basket, rinsed the wine glasses in the river, brought them back, and gave one to Edith.
"We'll break the bottle," he said, "and the glasses, too. They shall never be used again."
The shattered crystal fell, tinkling as it went. The wine made a deep, purple stain upon the stone. He opened his arms.
"No," whispered Edith. "It only makes it harder, when----"
"Beloved, have you found so much sweetness in the world that you can afford to pass it by?" She did not answer, so he said, pleadingly: "Don't you want to come?"
She turned toward him, her face suddenly illumined. "I do, with all my soul I do."
"Then come. For one little hour--for one dear hour--ah, dearest, come!"
Rosemary averted her face, unable to bear it. When she turned her miserable eyes toward them again, allured by some strange fascination she was powerless to analyse, Edith was in his arms, her mouth crushed to his.
Yours Alone
"Dear, dearest, sweetheart, beloved!" the man murmured. "I love you so!"
There was a pause, then he spoke again. "Do you love me?"
"Yes," she breathed. "A thousand times, yes!"
"Say it," he pleaded. "Just those three words."
"I love you," she answered, "for everything you have been and everything you are and everything you are going to be, for always. I love you with a love that is yours alone. It never belonged to anybody else for the merest fraction of a second, and never can. It was born for you, lives for you, and will die when you need it no more."
"Ah," he said, "but I need it always. I've wanted you all my life."
"And will," she sighed, trying to release herself.
"Edith! Don't! I can't bear it! Take the golden hour as the glittering sands of eternity sweep past us. So much is yours and mine, out of all that is past and to come."
"As you wish," she responded. Then, after another pause, she said: "Don't you want to read to me?"
Rosemary, dumb and hopeless, saw them sit down, close together, and lean against the rock, where the sunlight made an aureole of Edith's hair. He slipped his arm around her, and she laid her head upon his shoulder, with a look of heavenly peace upon her pale face. Never had the contrast between them been more painful than now, for Edith, with love in her eyes, was exquisite beyond all words.