THERESA’S LOVE.
Never until Sir Harold Annesley came into her life had Theresa Hamilton understood the ecstatic joy of living. The songs of the birds were tuned afresh, the flowers took on a newer bloom, and the bees that buzzed in the blossoming garden told but one story, and its name was Love—beautiful Love!
In a few short weeks she had changed from a girl into a woman, and the soft, happy light that shone in her glorious, Southern eyes told its own story.
And now that Mr. Hamilton had given his consent to Sir Harold’s wooing, he became aware that Theresa wanted new frocks, and things of which most girls are proud.
One day he called her to him.
“My darling,” he said, kissing her tenderly, “in one way I have been very unkind to you, and you have never once complained.”
She looked at him wonderingly.
“You do not understand me, Theresa?”
“No, father; because I do not know the meaning of unkindness. You have ever striven hard to teach me all those accomplishments that are so essential to women of refinement. I never knew their value until——”
She hesitated, and he asked: