'Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.'
Francesca joined me just then, and a tear was in her eye. “Penny dear, when all is said, 'Believe me' is the dearer song of the two. Anybody can sing, feel, live, the first, which is but a youthful dream, after all; but the other has in it the proved fidelity of the years. The first song belongs to me, I know, and it is all I am fit for now; but I want to grow toward and deserve the second.”
“You are right; but while Love's Young Dream is yours and Ronald's, dear, take all the joy that it holds for you. The other song is for Salemina and Dr. Gerald, and I only hope they are realising it at this moment—secretive, provoking creatures that they are!”
The old organist left his pupil just then, and disappeared through a little door in the rear.
“Have you the Wedding March there?” I asked the pupil who had been practising the love-songs.
“Oh yes, madam, though I am afraid I cannot do it justice,” he replied modestly. “Are you interested in organ music?”
“I am very much interested in yours, and I am still more interested in a romance that has been dragging its weary length along for twenty years, and is trying to bring itself to a crisis just on the other side of that screen. You can help me precipitate it, if you only will!”
Well, he was young and he was an Irishman, which is equivalent to being a born lover, and he had been brought up on Tommy Moore and music—all of which I had known from the moment I saw him, else I should not have made the proposition. I peeped from behind the screen. Ronald and Himself were walking toward us; Salemina and Dr. Gerald were sitting together in one of the front pews. I beckoned to my husband.
“Will you and Ronald go quietly out one of the side doors,” I asked, “take your own car, and go back to the hotel, allowing us to follow you a little later?”
It takes more than one year of marriage for even the cleverest Benedict to uproot those weeds of stupidity, denseness, and non-comprehension that seem to grow so riotously in the mental garden of the bachelor; so, said Himself, “We came all together; why shouldn't we go home all together?” (So like a man! Always reasoning from analogy; always, so to speak, 'lugging in' logic!)