"That first kiss, beloved. Do you remember?"
"Yes. It was here." She stretched out her arm and with a rosy finger-tip indicated the bare, sweet hollow of her elbow, just below the sleeve.
Lover-like, he kissed it again. "Do you love me?"
"Yes, Boy--for always."
"How much?"
"Better than everything else in the world. Do you love me?"
"Yes, with all my heart and soul and strength and will. There isn't a fibre of me that doesn't love you."
"For always?"
"Yes, for always."
And so they chanted the lover's litany until even the afterglow had died out of the sky. Edith released herself from his clinging arms. "We must go," she sighed. "It's getting late."
If He assisted her to her feet, and led her to the boat, moored in shallows that made a murmurous singing all around it and upon the shore. He took her hand to help her in, then paused.
"If love were all," he asked, "what would you do?"
"If love were all," she answered, "I'd put my arms around you, like this, never to be unclasped again. I'd go with you to-night, to the end of the world, and ask for nothing but that we might be together. I'd face the heat of the desert uncomplainingly, the cold of perpetual snows. I'd bear anything, suffer anything, do anything. I'd so merge my life with yours that one heart-beat would serve us both, and when we died, we'd go together--if love were all."
"God bless you, dear!" he murmured, with his lips against hers.
"And you. Come."
The boat swung out over the shallows into the middle of the stream, where the current took them slowly and steadily toward home. For the most part they drifted, though Alden took care to keep the boat well out from shore, and now and then, with the stroke of an oar dipped up a myriad of mirrored stars.
Seeking for a Message
Edith laughed. "Give me one, won't you, please?"
"You shall have them all."
"But I asked only for one."
"Then choose."
She leaned forward, in the scented shadow, serious now, with a quick and characteristic change of mood. "The love star," she breathed. "Keep it burning for me, will you, in spite of clouds and darkness--for always?"
"Yes, my queen--for always."
When they reached the house, Madame was nowhere in sight. Divining their wish to be alone on this last evening together, she had long since gone to her own room. The candles on the mantel had been lighted and the reading lamp burned low. Near it was the little red book that Edith had found at the top of the Hill of the Muses.