He put his arm around Evaleen, drawing her to him.
“This child’s mother took me ‘for better or worse’ twenty-five years ago this very night, when I hadn’t a dollar in the world that I could call my own—married me on an hour’s notice, and without any wedding guests or wedding gowns. She trusted me and loved me well enough to take me as I was, and to trust to the future (God bless her!) and neither of us have ever had cause to regret it.”
To have this assurance from the Judge before he knew of the wonderful story Sherwood had to tell of the secret of Crazy Dan’s tunnel, added to the joy of the young people who now felt they were beloved of the gods.
The Judge’s joy over the finding of the treasure box was even greater than Sherwood’s; for the older man had lived long enough to realize (as a younger generation could not) that this wealth would put many possibilities for happiness within their reach that otherwise might not be theirs. To them—the lovers in the rose-dawn of youth, with love so new—love itself seemed enough; save perhaps that the money would make marriage a nearer possibility.
“Darling”—and a new thought, a new hope rang through Sherwood’s earnest tones—“do you believe you love me as well as she—your mother—loved him?”
“Oh, Hume!” was all she said, but the reproach in her eyes answered him.
“Then marry me now, as she did your father, at an hour’s notice. Here—this evening, before the train comes. Judge, why can not this be so? What is there to prevent our being married at once, without all the fussing and nonsense that will be necessary if we wait till she gets home? Let us be married here, and now, and all go away together.”
“Why, bless my soul! This takes my breath away. You young people—what whirlwinds you are! You—Yes, yes, but—— Hey? What’s that? I did? I know; but—— What? I should rather think it would be a surprise to mother and the girls to bring a son home to Christmas dinner. Oh, yes, I know; but—— What’s that you say? Her mother did——! Yes, yes, I know.... Well, well, my lad, I don’t know but you’re right. Her mother—— Love is the one thing—the rest doesn’t matter. Evy, child, it is for you to say.”
And remembering that girl of the long-ago who twenty-five years before had gone to a penniless lover with such a beautiful love and trust Evaleen Blaine, putting her hand with a like trust into her lover’s, walked with him across to the little parsonage, and there became Hume Sherwood’s wife.