"To make one heart so perfectly transformed with happiness is indeed a privilege," she said, running her hand through his abundance of hair with almost a maternal caress.
Another month passed happily, and Edgeway seemed indeed transformed. He needed no gay mask to cover his cynicism now—it had all entire vanished.
Suffused with the light from Betty's radiant nature, he suddenly developed all his latent aspirations. They read and talked together, and he felt her spirit touch all things.
Sometimes he asked himself if this dream could possibly last. Would Betty be satisfied always? Then his complete happiness would chase away the doubt.
One night when she and Edgeway were alone together, the post brought a letter from Alma.
"Ah," she said delighted, "I have wondered why she did not write?"
She opened it quickly and was surprised to find only a note.
"Dearest Betty:—George returns alone tomorrow. You may expect to see him very soon. He will tell you all—I dare not trust myself to write now. We are all well and oh! So happy! My darling girl, my heart's best to you.
"Devotedly,
"Alma."