Jess’ reception of him the day before, and her acknowledgment of her love for himself, had fairly carried his heart by storm. He could not doubt but that other love affair had been brought about by a mistaken fancy on the girl’s part, and that her affection for himself was true love, the first and only time she had really loved.
The peep he had had into her heart had been a revelation to him, and then, and then only, he realized an amazing truth, that his own heart answered that love—responded to it with an intenseness that startled him with its power.
“Thank Heaven that I did not tell her yesterday that the object of my visit was to inform her that we must part; that I intended to divorce her. Great God! I must have been mad to think of flinging aside so ruthlessly a heart of such pure gold,” he ruminated. “I am thankful, indeed, that I knew my own heart in time. Instead of telling her that we must part, I will tell her that I am come to take her away with me, and that we shall never be parted more, and that I love her even more fondly than she loves me, and that henceforth our lives shall be one long, sweet dream of bliss, that her happiness shall be my care, and a lifetime of fond devotion shall repay her for giving her sweet, bright self to my keeping.”
Would she never come to him? Oh, how the moments seemed to drag, he longed so to clasp Jess in his arms, and give her the first kiss of love, burning, passionate love, that he had ever pressed upon her lips—and she his bride.
He almost believed that his love had developed into idolatry for Jess, his sweet girl-bride.
CHAPTER XLII.
THE PLOT THICKENS.
“I believe love, pure and true
Is to the soul a sweet, immortal dew
That gem life’s petals in its hours of dusk.
The waiting angels see and recognize