“One word, Eva; only one. May I love you?”
She lifted her eyes to his. The light of stars seemed quivering in them.
“How can you ask me? Have I not permitted it already?”
The young man drew her gently to his bosom, and laid his cheek to hers, as doves creep together in a nest.
“And you love me?”
“A thousand times better than myself,” she answered.
“And some day, not long from this, you will be my wife?”
CHAPTER XLII.
A WOMAN TRANSFIGURED.
His wife. Eva had not thought of that. It had been enough that he loved her, and she loved him. Now an idea of the future flashed through her happiness, and she remembered how far they two were apart. His wife! The holy word thrilled her from head to foot with unutterable bliss, mingled with apprehension.
“Ah!” she said, “what a strange, sweet word it is. How much it means; how impossible that I should bear it.”