His passion carried her resistlessly away as the great waves sweep the
deck of a ship at sea. She was out in the ocean of love, far from all
else that was dear to her, far from all harbors save the mysterious one
to which his passion was piloting her through a storm of emotion.
"I have longed so to hold you in my arms, Beverly--even when you were a
princess and I lay in the hospital at Ganlook, my fevered arms hungered
for you. There never has been a moment that my heart has not been
reaching out in search of yours. You have glorified me, dearest, by the
promise you made a week ago. I know that you will not renounce that
precious pledge. It is in your eyes now--the eyes I shall worship to the
end of eternity. Tell me, though, with your own lips, your own voice,
that you will be my wife, mine to hold forever."
For answer she placed her arms about his neck and buried her face
against his shoulder. There were tears in her gray eyes and there was a
sob in her throat. He held her close to his breast for an eternity, it
seemed to both, neither giving voice to the song their hearts were
singing. There was no other world than the fairy grotto.
"Sweetheart, I am asking you to make a great sacrifice," he said at
last, his voice hoarse but tender. She looked up into his face
serenely. "Can you give up the joys, the wealth, the comforts of that
home across the sea to share a lowly cottage with me and my love? Wait,
dear,--do not speak until I am through. You must think of what your
friends will say. The love and life I offer you now will not be like
that which you always have known. It will be poverty and the dregs, not
riches and wine. It will be--"
But she placed her hand upon his lips, shaking her head
emphatically. The picture he was painting was the same one that she had
studied for days and days. Its every shadow was familiar to her, its
every unwholesome corner was as plain as day.
"The rest of the world may think what it likes, Paul," she said. "It
will make no difference to me. I have awakened from my dream. My dream
prince is gone, and I find that it's the real man that I love. What
would you have me do? Give you up because you are poor? Or would you
have me go up the ladder of fame and prosperity with you, a humble but
adoring burden? I know you, dear. You will not always be poor. They may
say what they like. I have thought long and well, because I am not a
fool. It is the American girl who marries the titled foreigner without
love that is a fool. Marrying a poor man is too serious a business to be
handled by fools. I have written to my father, telling him that I am
going to marry you," she announced. He gasped with unbelief.