Dallington laughed a little bitterly. “My mother has been telling me to marry money. I scarcely expected Margaret Miller to give me the same advice. You are like the rest of the world after all, I suppose. Do you mean to marry money too, Margaret?”
“Are you going to be cruel to me?”
“No, dear; but neither must you be to me. Margaret, listen to me. I will not persecute you with unwelcome attentions; but I will not give you up until I discover that you are promised to another. You have grown so lovely and so sweet that, of course, you may have already learnt to care for some one else”—Margaret smiled—“but I do not think you have; and if you say No to-day, I shall ask you again. I have thought of you in every land to which I have gone. I have compared, or rather, contrasted—all women with you. Once, when I was ill, a strange feeling came over me that you were praying for me. It was my greatest hope when I returned to England that at last you would accept me. I have been very faithful to you, Margaret, because I love you—I love you! Darling, give me my answer now.”
They were standing under the shade of a tree in the lane behind Margaret’s home, and none saw or heard but the birds. The girl hesitated for a few seconds. It was no use to try to persuade herself that she did not care for him, for she knew better. He was searching her face with eager eyes, and she dared not meet his passionate gaze. She had given him love for love all along, and it was this that made it impossible for her to care for those who in his absence had sought her hand. Ah! yes, she loved him, and because she did his happiness should be dearer to her than her own. Oh! if she could believe that it would be really best for him, so that she might give him the answer he wanted, and which was throbbing in her heart and trembling on her lips! Might she? Dare she? True love is always humble, and there were strong reasons why Margaret’s should be especially so; and yet——
“Margaret, my darling, you do care for me!” he said, and he drew her gently toward him.
“Care for you? Oh, John, John!” It was no use; love is stronger than anything. She yielded herself for a moment to his arms, and he took his first sweet kiss of love.
CHAPTER X.
IN PARADISE.
Who is responsible for the naming of places?
Paradises and Edens are plentiful in London, if there is anything in names: but some of them have surely received their cognomens in bitter irony. Near Mr. Knight’s premises was a court which was called Nightingale Lane, and another known as Wild Rose Court, the houses in which were, most of them, a disgrace to civilisation. But there was another, containing about seventy dwellings, which rejoiced in the name of Paradise Grove. Away at the church, the sound of whose bells came in a sort of muffled music, they used sometimes to sing about Paradise in the anthem—
O Paradise! O Paradise!