“You have! you have! and I do—do love you.” She glanced over his shoulder into the mirror. Was the bright face she saw there her very own? What had become of its sallowness, its lines of care, its yearning melancholy?
A wave of golden consciousness sweetly swept her face. In the fulness of contentment, long withheld, Cherokee’s glad youth had come back to reward her husband.
Transcriber’s Note:
Obvious typographic errors have been corrected.