To Rena this brief month's courtship came as a new education. Not only had this fair young man crowned her queen, and honored her above all the ladies in town; but since then he had waited assiduously upon her, had spoken softly to her, had looked at her with shining eyes, and had sought to be alone with her. The time soon came when to touch his hand in greeting sent a thrill through her frame,--a time when she listened for his footstep and was happy in his presence. He had been bold enough at the tournament; he had since become somewhat bashful and constrained. He must be in love, she thought, and wondered how soon he would speak. If it were so sweet to walk with him in the garden, or along the shaded streets, to sit with him, to feel the touch of his hand, what happiness would it not be to hear him say that he loved her--to bear his name, to live with him always. To be thus loved and honored by this handsome young man, --she could hardly believe it possible. He would never speak--he would discover her secret and withdraw. She turned pale at the thought,--ah, God! something would happen,--it was too good to be true. The Prince would never try on the glass slipper.
Tryon first told his love for Rena one summer evening on their way home from church. They were walking in the moonlight along the quiet street, which, but for their presence, seemed quite deserted.
"Miss Warwick--Rowena," he said, clasping with his right hand the hand that rested on his left arm, "I love you! Do you--love me?"To Rena this simple avowal came with much greater force than a more formal declaration could have had. It appealed to her own simple nature.
Indeed, few women at such a moment criticise the form in which the most fateful words of life--but one--are spoken. Words, while pleasant, are really superfluous. Her whispered "Yes" spoke volumes.
They walked on past the house, along the country road into which the street soon merged. When they returned, an hour later, they found Warwick seated on the piazza, in a rocking-chair, smoking a fragrant cigar.
"Well, children," he observed with mock severity, "you are late in getting home from church. The sermon must have been extremely long.""We have been attending an after-meeting," replied Tryon joyfully, "and have been discussing an old text, `Little children, love one another,' and its corollary, `It is not good for man to live alone.' John, I am the happiest man alive. Your sister has promised to marry me. I should like to shake my brother's hand."Never does one feel so strongly the universal brotherhood of man as when one loves some other fellow's sister. Warwick sprang from his chair and clasped Tryon's extended hand with real emotion.
He knew of no man whom he would have preferred to Tryon as a husband for his sister.
"My dear George--my dear sister," he exclaimed, "I am very, very glad. I wish you every happiness. My sister is the most fortunate of women.""And I am the luckiest of men," cried Tryon.
"I wish you every happiness," repeated Warwick;adding, with a touch of solemnity, as a certain thought, never far distant, occurred to him, "I hope that neither of you may ever regret your choice."Thus placed upon the footing of an accepted lover, Tryon's visits to the house became more frequent. He wished to fix a time for the marriage, but at this point Rena developed a strange reluctance.
"Can we not love each other for a while?" she asked. "To be engaged is a pleasure that comes but once; it would be a pity to cut it too short.""It is a pleasure that I would cheerfully dispense with," he replied, "for the certainty of possession.
I want you all to myself, and all the time. Things might happen. If I should die, for instance, before I married you"--"Oh, don't suppose such awful things," she cried, putting her hand over his mouth.
He held it there and kissed it until she pulled it away.
"I should consider," he resumed, completing the sentence, "that my life had been a failure.""If I should die," she murmured, "I should die happy in the knowledge that you had loved me.""In three weeks," he went on, "I shall have finished my business in Clarence, and there will be but one thing to keep me here. When shall it be?
I must take you home with me."
