“Piers is coming!” That was the song in Kitty’s heart, the refrain to which her hands and feet kept busy until she stood before her glass lovelier than words can paint, her exquisite form robed in white lawn, her cheeks as fresh and blooming as the roses at her girdle, her eyes as blue as the forget-me-nots in her hair, her whole heart in every movement, glance, and word, thrilling with the delight of expectation, and shining with the joy of loving.
So Piers found her in the garden watching for his approach. And on this happy afternoon, Nature was in a charming mood; she had made the garden a Paradise for their meeting. The birds sang softly in the green trees above them; the flowers perfumed the warm air they breathed; and an atmosphere of inexpressible serenity encompassed them. After such long absence, oh, how heavenly was this interview without fear, or secrecy, or self-reproach, or suspicion of wrong-doing! How heavenly was the long, sweet afternoon, and the social pleasure of the tea hour, and the soft starlight night under the drooping gold of the laburnums and the fragrant clusters of the damask roses! Even parting under such circumstances was robbed of its sting; it was only “such sweet sorrow.” It was glorified by its trust and hope, and was without the shadow of tears.
Kitty came to her father when it was over; and her eyes were shining, and there was a little sob in her heart; but she said only happy words. With her arms around his neck she whispered, “Thank you, dear!” And he answered, “Thou art gladly welcome! Right or wrong, thou art welcome, Kitty. My dear little Kitty! He will come back; I know he will. A girl that puts honour and duty before love, crowns them with love in the end–always so, dear. That is sure. When will he be back?”
“When the Duke and Duchess want him more than they want their own way. He says disputing will do harm, and not good; but that if a difference is left to the heart, the heart in the long run will get the best of the argument. I am sure he is right. Father, he is going to send you and mother long letters, and so I shall know where he is; and with the joy of this meeting to keep in my memory, I am not going to fret and be miserable.”
“That is right. That is the way to take a disappointment. Good things are worth waiting for, eh, Kitty?”
“And we shall have so much to interest us, Father. There is Edgar’s marriage coming; and it would not do to have two weddings in one year, would it? Father, you like Piers? I am sure you do.”
“I would not have let him put a foot in Atheling to-day if I had not liked him. He has been very good company for me in London, very good company indeed–thoughtful and respectful. Yes, I like Piers.”
“Because–now listen, Father–because, much as I love Piers, I would not be his wife for all England if you and mother did not like him.”