The Secret of the Storm Country

She was even more mystified at the peculiarity of his greeting. With nerves as tautly drawn as fiddle strings, she remained very still. In his own time he would tell her all about it. She lifted her arms, but Frederick, unheeding, sank to the rocks beside her. She laid her hand on his, expressing her love to him by the simple contact.

"Don't!" he said shortly. He drew away from the caressing fingers impatiently. "I've come to tell you something."

"Well, here I air," answered Tess, quietly.

There was an exquisite tenderness in the young voice. In the white light of the early evening Tessibel could see Frederick's brows fiercely drawn together. Probably his mother was worse and that accounted for the change in him. She became instantly all devotion.

"Air ye goin' to tell me about it, honey?" she entreated softly. "It'll make ye feel better.... Tell Tessibel."

He turned away, and moved nervously until his shoulders were fitted into a rock cavity; then, he dropped his head back with a prolonged sigh. It was even more difficult than he had imagined.

"Of course I needn't tell you ... that I love you, need I, Tess?" he stammered, after a while.

He could not assure her too many times of his affection. She leaned against him, adoring, wrapped in the delight of his love as a water lily is wrapped in its green sepals.

"I know it, dearest!" she murmured, much moved. "Ye tell me that every day. But what else air ye--"

"You'll forgive me, and not be ... too unhappy?" Frederick interrupted her anxiously.

Unhappy, while her whole being was transfused with ecstasy! Unhappy, when his life and hers intermingled in one glad, glorious song of inseparable unity! There never could be a diminution of her joy. Frederick loved her! That was enough.

"There ain't nothin' I wouldn't forgive," she vowed, misty-eyed.

"But, Tess, I feel as though you won't forgive me this," sighed Frederick. "But if you'll promise me--"

"I do--I will," she interjected, sitting up. "Why, of course, I'd forgive ye anything."

Frederick dared not look at her. Even in the twilight he could feel her eyes searching his face for an explanation.

"I need you to help me, Tessibel," he said at length.

Help him! Hadn't she ever been ready to help him? He had but to ask her. She dropped her head against his arm again.

"Tell Tessibel," she urged, smiling.

One slender, girlish arm slipped lovingly about him. A set of small fingers took his cold hand in a firm grasp.

"Tess loves ye, dear," came soothingly. "Now tell 'er, an' then ye'll be happier."