The lovely, golden-brown head bent down until it was pillowed on his bosom, the red, full lips were pressed half timidly to his, the deep, loving blue eyes looked trustfully up into his own, and Clancy knew that she was his till death!
“My own darling Vinnie!” said he, proudly.
“Yes,” she whispered, “yours always!”
I am afraid if the woodman could have seen the little episode that was taking place in the cabin then, he would have thought Clancy just the least bit forgetful of the injunction he had put upon him when he went away—of course he would not willfully ignore it!
There was a slight, almost imperceptible sound outside the cabin, that escaped the young hunter’s usually quick ear, and a dark face was pressed for an instant against one of the lower panes of the little window at the side of the door. It was withdrawn almost as soon as it appeared.
“And you will be my wife, Vinnie—mine to love and cherish always?” Clancy went on.
“Yes.”
“And your father? What will he say?”
“I do not think he will oppose us very strongly,” she said, remembering his words to her that afternoon.
“We will ask him and see, when he comes back.”