“You shall never leave me, Ronald, through fault of mine. I love you dearly. I have never loved any one else. If you had never sought me again, I should, for your sake, have gone single to my grave. I tell you all this to comfort you, and because I know you to stand in sore need of comfort now.”
She was almost alarmed at the ghastly pallor that overspread his face.
“I cannot believe it,” he said. “Oh, Hermione, swear to me that you will be mine!”
He never forgot the next moment—never, even when after years taught him how true was her vow. She laid her hand in his.
“You ask me to love you, Ronald? You ask me to swear to be your wife. Listen, love, to my vow. I promise to love you, and you alone, while life shall last. I promise to live for your happiness and welfare; to spend my whole life in teaching you to forget your sorrow and learn true happiness at last. I swear to be true to you, to stand by your side in all trials, to shield you from all cares—ah, and if need should be, my husband and love, to lay down my life for yours!”
She paused then, for the fervor of her own words had overpowered her. An hour was to come when those words would comfort them both, and they would know how deeply Lady Alden felt the solemnity of her vow.
Their marriage was not long delayed. It seemed to Sir Ronald that the good angel of his life was coming home to him at last, for Lady Hermione was less woman than angel. She soothed him; her sweet, bright words drove away the darker moods that would at times overtake him in spite of the sunshine of her presence. It was as though new life had come to the grand old mansion, when Lady Alden’s bright, sweet face shone there.
The whole neighborhood rejoiced at the marriage. There was no man, woman or child who had not pitied the unhappy Lord of Aldenmere, and shuddered at the darksome tragedy that had fallen over him, and now they rejoiced that he was to once more live as his fellowmen lived. One or two went beneath the surface and guessed the truth; that the woman he was marrying now was the only one he had ever really loved.
So, amid sunshine and blossoms, amid the pealing of joy-bells, and the joyous clash of music, amid good wishes and blessings, prayers from old and young, from rich and poor, Sir Ronald led his beautiful wife home.
To a home that was changed as he was himself, where brightness had given place to gloom, sighs to smiles, wretchedness to joy, sorrow to happiness: where once more the sun of life shone, and all rejoiced in its beams.