“My child,” he said, and now the stick acted as a support, “I was just handed a note from Dr. Kemp. He has asked me for your hand.”
In the pause that followed Ruth’s lovely face was hidden in her hat.
“He also told me that he loves you,” he continued slowly, “and that you return his love. Will you turn your face to me, Ruth?”
She did so with dignity.
“You love this man?”
“I do.” As reverently as if at the altar, she faced and answered her father. All her love was in the eyes she raised to his. Beneath their happy glow Levice’s sank and his steady lips grew pale.
They were away from mankind in the shelter of the woods, the birds gayly carolling their matins above them.
“And you desire to become his wife?”
Neck, face, and ears were suffused with color as she faltered unsteadily,—
“Oh, Father, he loves me.” Then at the wonder of it, she exclaimed, throwing her arms about his neck impulsively and hiding her face in his shoulder, “I am so happy, so happy! It seems almost too beautiful to be true.”