A Ring of Rubies - L. T. Meade

“We love each other,” I continued, steadily, “as much as any two people could. There is no reason why we should delay our marriage.”

“As that is the case, there is no reason what ever,” Tom Valentine said now. And he put his arm quite boldly round my waist.

I think my mother said something more, but I am not quite sure. The queerest thing happened at that moment; the queerest, most incomprehensible thing. I had forgotten Cousin Tom down-stairs because my father and brothers and sister were present. Now up-stairs I forgot my mother, who had hitherto been the first being in the world to me, because Cousin Tom was by; because I suddenly knew that my heart was his, my life his, my future his; because I realised that if every other part of Cousin Geoffrey’s will crumbled into dust and ceased to bind me, the clause which gave me to Tom Valentine would remain in force, and be the sweetest and dearest of all bonds to me.

Cousin Tom’s arm held me still firmer to his side. I turned and laid my head on his shoulder.

The End.