“Be honest,” repeated her father, “for I think it is a very honest heart that you have won.”
“Papa,” said Gipsy, “I am honest, and I think I know what you mean. But I don’t mind waiting if I know he is waiting too. He said ‘begin at the beginning’ with him.”
“Well,” said Mr Stanforth with a sigh, “Che sará sará;” but with a sudden turn, “He is young, too, you know, and many things may happen to change his views.”
“I cannot help it now, papa,” said Gipsy, who felt that those days and nights of terror had developed her feelings more than weeks of common life. She gave her father’s hand a little squeeze, and looked up in his face with the tears on her black eyelashes. She meant to say, “I love you all the better because of this new love which has made everything deeper and warmer for me,” but all she managed to say was—“There! There are all the things tumbling out of your knapsack! I’m not going to have that happen again even if—if—whatever should take place in the future.”
“I hope, my dear, that nothing more will happen, at least till we are at home again,” said Mr Stanforth meekly; but Gipsy put the things into the knapsack, and after a little silence they fell into a conversation on the scenery as naturally as possible.
Chapter Thirty Five.
A Summons.
“Once from high Heaven
Is a father given.
Once—and, oh, never again!”