"You didn't know it, father; mother's eyes are not so blind. Amy, darling, I've been hoping and praying for this. You have made a good choice, my dear, if it is his mother that says it. Webb will never change, and he will always be as gentle and good to you as he has been to me."
"Well, well, well," said Mr. Clifford, "our cup is running over, sure enough. Maggie, come here," he called, as he heard her step in the hall. "Here is a new relative. I once felt a little like grumbling because we hadn't a daughter, and now I have three, and the best and prettiest in the land. You didn't know what Webb was about."
"Didn't I, Webb—as long ago as last October, too?"
"Oh, Webb, you ought to have told me first," said Amy, reproachfully, when they were alone.
"I did not tell Maggie; she saw," Webb answered. Then, taking a rosebud which she had been wearing, he pushed open the petals with his finger, and asked, "Who told me that 'this is no way for a flower to bloom'? I've watched and waited till your heart was ready, Amy." And so the time flew in mutual confidences, and the past grew clear when illumined by love.
"Poor old Webb!" said Amy, with a mingled sigh and laugh. "There you were growing as gaunt as a scarecrow, and I loving you all the time. What a little goose I was! If you had looked at Gertrude as Burt did I should have found myself out long ago. Why hadn't you the sense to employ Burt's tactics?"
"Because I had resolved that nature should be my sole ally. Was not my kiss under the mistletoe a better way of awakening my sleeping beauty than a stab of jealousy?"
"Yes, Webb, dear, patient Webb. The rainbow shield was a true omen, and I am sheltered indeed."