Later they were sitting on the porch enjoying the lovely evening over their coffee. Faint stars were beginning to twinkle and the air had the warmth which comes with the dying summer.
“John,” broke in Ruth, “it’s a glorious evening; you should show Helène the hill-view from the east loggia. I will let you know when the carriage drives up.”
John stood with his beloved in the dusk of the protected wing. Below them the evening haze of autumn enveloped the valley and slopes, leaving a clear outline of wooded hillside against the bright glow whence the rising moon was promised. From the distance blinked occasional gleams of light marking dwellings here and there. Out of the darkened lawn came the song of crickets and the whisper of the invisible night life. It was the very time and place for our fairy. Surely he was behind that dusky bed of cannas, crouching under the giant leaf of that caladium!
Helène sat supported by John’s strong arm, and over both surged a flood of golden memories. She was the first to break the stillness:
“Mr. Morton—John—you are so very rich and powerful. I did not dream of it. And I—I have nothing—not even a dot! Is it right that I permit myself to love you? Will you not regret it, some day?”
John tightened the arm round her shoulder, and gave a love chuckle. “Darling, the girls of our country never have dots, even if their parents have sinful wealth. And you—the good God has given you wealth beyond compare. He has given you a heart finer than gold, beauty rarer than a vision. And ... I love you, Helène, I love you.”
She drew herself closer to his breast and gave a faint sigh of ineffable content. “If papa could know, John,” she said softly.
“I think he does know, sweetheart, and is smiling down on us. See, Helène, there is my faithful ally, the ‘Great Bear.’ He kept his promise and spoke for me.”
“You mean the ‘Big Dipper,’ John,” said Helène with a smile. “He has been my good friend also. Other girls may have a star of destiny; but I—I have seven!”