II
“And, oh when the cloud of some darkening hour
O'ershadows the soul with its gloom,
Then where is the light of the vestal pow'r,
The lamp of pale Hope to illume?
Oh! the light ever lies
In those bright fond eyes,
Where Heaven has impressed its own blue
As a seal from the skies
As my heart relies
On that gift of its sunshine in you!”
Fanny liked the lines, of course. “Dearest,” she said, “may I always prove sunshine to you! Is it not a strange coincidence that these lines exactly fit a little air which occurred to me some time ago?”
“'Tis odd,” said Edward; “sing it to me, darling.”
Fanny took the verses from his hand, and sung them to her own measure. Oh, happy triumph of the poet!—to hear his verses wedded to sweet sounds, and warbled by the woman he loves! Edward caught up the strain, adding his voice to hers in harmony, and thus they sauntered homewards, trolling their ready-made duet together. There were not two happier hearts in the world that day than those of Fanny Dawson and Edward O'Connor.