"That's the worst part of it, dearest! How can a wife love, honor and serve her husband, and keep him in sickness and in health, if she can't live with him?" she exclaimed, while blushes danced playfully over the dark beauty of her face.
"You are the dearest girl that ever lived," he cried, throwing his arms around her and pressing her again to his heart. "I shall do my best with the Colonel; and will see him as soon as I can. Perhaps I should have spoken to him first; but if I had he would have forbidden our wedding, and to have married after that would have been direct insubordination."
"Won't he think so as it is?"
"Perhaps. Still I am willing to run the risk; and I wanted to have you as my wife, whether I could take you or not. I'm afraid I'm a selfish fellow, Helen, and not by any means worthy of you."
"Why, Harold! What a way of speaking—just after our marriage, too!"
"Forgive me, dearest! I didn't mean anything, but that I love you so much, that I almost tremble at the responsibility we have undertaken."
"Is that a brave front for a soldier?" exclaimed Helen, with flashing eye.
"I would dare anything for myself, Helen; but it is of you I was thinking. To leave you behind with no one but your uncle and aunt to care for you when we sail, and perhaps not come back for years, seems more than I can bear."
"If we have to we must, though," she exclaimed, cuddling closer. "Then I will stay home and wait and watch and pray for the dearest one in all the world to me; and think of Penetang. Isn't that the name of the place? and long for the day that I can be with my husband again."
"What a noble girl you are!"