A cry of anguish burst from the poor girl’s lips:
“Oh! do not, do not say that! He is not dead! You know it, father! Oh! tell me he is not dead!” and she sank at her father’s feet, overcome with grief.
“O, God!” breathed the old man between his set teeth; “I fear it must be done!” Then, leaning over and stroking the golden locks of his daughter, he said:
“Marie, look up.”
Her eyes, glistening with tiny tear-crystals, were turned up to his.
“Look into my eyes, my child, and listen well to my words. Do you love Junius Cobb as fondly now as when you were a girl, on the night when he said good-bye and left you? Answer me as your heart dictates.”
“O, father! can you doubt it?” A heavenly look appeared in her eyes. “Would to God I could be with him in this life, or in death!” Her head fell upon her father’s bosom.
“Then, life without your lover is worse than death?” and her father fixed his eyes in a hoping, expecting, desiring expression upon his daughter.
“Yes!” burst from her lips; “a thousand times yes! for what is life without him? If I be not with him in death, then death is oblivion!”
“My noble, true-hearted daughter!” and he folded her to his heart. “Your lover is true to you—that I can swear. Await with patience, my child, till God wills your union. Now, once more listen to my words: it is my desire that you enter the world of life and fashion, rule my house as its mistress; entertain, make friends, and let no worry enter thy heart. Do this, and if at the end of four years more, you ask for Junius Cobb, your betrothed, he shall come to you. I swear to you, my daughter, that my words are true.”