Was it a dream—not only this scene of broad motionless leaves, and these sounds she heard, but all the past months of her life?
Hours went by leaving her motionless in that seat, and then came the sound of a horse—she sprang up. He was returning—it was a dream that had given her this agony of parting.
“Daireen, child, what is the matter?” asked her father, whose horse it was she had heard.
She looked up to his face.
“Papa,” she said very gently, “it is over—all—all over—for ever—I have only you now.”
“My dear little Dolly, tell me all that troubles you.”
“Nothing troubles me now, papa. I have you near me, and I do not mind anything else.”
“Tell me all, Daireen.”
“I thought I loved some one else, papa—Oswin—Oswin Markham. But he is gone now, and I know you are with me. You will always be with me.”
“My poor little Dolly,” said Colonel Gerald, “did he tell you that he loved you?”