Virginia paused, hesitated, her sweet face flushing and paling, as John Travis turned. He was not sure he had made up his mind to any certain step; but, having found her here, he was certain he should never let her go again in this mortal life.
Did it make any difference here in this sacred hour who had sinned? Could not even suffering love fold about another the garment of forgiveness? He took a step forward; she seemed to draw near by some inward volition, and stretched out her hands beseechingly. The sorrow and pain were ended. Was not love too sacred a thing to be bruised and wounded by trifles that should have been forgiven and forgotten as soon as uttered?
“Virginia,” in a breathless sort of whisper. He stooped and kissed the quivering lips, and caught the tenderness of tear-blinded eyes.
“Little Dil, may I have Miss Deering’s roses?” and he took them in his hand.
“I only found a few,” in a faltering voice.
“But he’s brought me hundreds. I’m most buried in roses. An’, Miss Virginia, I told him you’d be so glad. An’ it’s all as you said, only I couldn’t feel quite sure till he come. The Lord Jesus did take Bess to heaven that night; but he left me ’cause there was somethin’ for me to do. It’s all gettin’ plain to me, only I ain’t bright to see into things quick. But you can’t both be mistook. An’ now I’m all bright an’ happy.”
Did Virginia Deering say a year ago that she should always hate wild roses? She buried her face in them now, so that no one should see her tears. God had led this little human wild rose in the pathway of both. It had grown in the world’s wilderness, and learned how to bloom out of its own generous heart. To her it was the lesson of her whole life.
Dilsey Quinn smiled. She knew nothing about love and lovers; but the atmosphere was sweet and cordial, and she felt that.
Virginia began to arrange some of the roses in a bowl, with the nervous desire of occupation.
“Please put thim here on the sill,” pleaded Dilsey. “That’s the way Bess had thim. An’ I told him how you gev thim to Patsey.”