Prescott told her briefly what he had learned at Navarino and of Wandle’s capture; and her deep satisfaction was obvious.
“I’m so glad!” she exclaimed. “This will make it easier for the others, though it doesn’t affect me. If I had had any doubts, I couldn’t have loved you. But I’m pleased you told me before you were really cleared. To have waited until everybody knew you were innocent would have looked as if you were afraid to test my faith in you.”
“No,” he said; “that couldn’t be. I was afraid of your having to make too heavy a sacrifice; and, unfortunately, there’s some risk of that still.”
“Go on, Jack.”
“I’m far from a rich man, though I never regretted it much until of late. You know how we live here; I can guess what you have enjoyed at home. Life’s strenuous on the prairie, and though I think it’s good, it makes demands on one you can’t have felt in England. There’s so much that you must give up, many things that you will miss. I am anxious when I think of it.”
Muriel looked far across the plain which ran back; glistening in the sunlight, until it faded into cold blues and purples toward the skyline. The gray bluffs, standing one behind the other, and the long straggling line of timber by a ravine marked its vast extent. It filled the girl with a sense of freedom; its wideness uplifted her.
“Jack,” she said, “I wonder whether you can understand why I made you take me out? The prairie has drawn me from the beginning, and I felt it would be easier to make a great change in this wonderful open space; I wanted to adopt the country, to feel it belonged to me. Now that I’ve made my choice, my home is where you are; I want nothing but to be loved and cared for, as you must care for me.”
Prescott drew her toward him, but there was more of respect than passion in his caress.
“My dear,” he said gravely, “I feel very humble as well as thankful. It’s a great thing I’ve undertaken, to make you happy; and I think you’ll try to forgive me if I sometimes fail.”
Muriel laughed and shook herself free.