These rocks were a bower of delight to the sentimental girl. It was here in the gloom that in every expression of nature Tess heard Frederick's voice; his clear tones came swiftly on the wings of the wind, in the sonorous clap of the chimes as they spread their chant over the lake.
She was now seated on a broad, grey rock-slab, bending slightly forward, listening for her lover's step.
"Frederick!" she breathed in delight as a tall form loomed from the shadowy path.
In another moment she felt herself gathered into strong arms, and for a while the boy and girl were silent in their mutual happiness. The lakeside was quiet except for the sound of the tumbling waves and the intermittent rumble of a train on the tracks above.
Now and then, far back in the forest, an owl whoo-whooed in croaking tones, and in a nearby tree a family of baby birds twittered continuously in their sleep.
All the daisies in the meadows, all the nodding buttercups in the fields, seemed to be blossoming in Tessibel's heart at one time. She was in Frederick's arms, and the whole world could offer her nothing more.
"Tessibel, my little love," began Frederick, between caresses, "you remember what I begged you to consent to early in the spring?"
Tess made a movement to sit up.
"Ye mean—?" she stammered, confused.
Frederick drew her close.