The girls started up, and in a moment Frank stood between them, with an arm thrown around each. "Why, Mr. Cameron," said Florence, "what did you come for, and who knew you were coming?"
"I came to see you, and you knew I was coming," answered Frank.
[pg 235]"Well, then," returned Florence, "if you came to see me, do look at me, and not keep your eyes fixed so continually on Fanny. In a few days you will be breaking the commandment which says: 'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife.'"
"Possibly I might had I never seen you," answered Frank.
At a late hour that night Florence moved with soft footsteps about her sleeping room, fearing lest she should awaken Fanny. Her precautions were useless, for Fanny was awake; looking at Florence, she said, "Oh, Flory, you naughty girl, what makes you blush so dreadfully?"
The next half hour was spent by Florence in telling Fanny what Frank had just asked her in four or five words, and which she had answered in one, viz., if she would be his wife. "But then," said Florence, pretending to pout, "he was so conscientious that he had to tell me what I already knew, which was that he once loved you better than he should ever love another."
Frank had asked Florence to share his lot through life, and she, like any other good, prompt Kentucky girl, had readily answered "yes," although she was frightened next moment for fear she had been too easily won by the "cold Yankee," as she called him, and she proposed taking back what she said just for the sake of being teased. Mr. Woodburn came next day to bring Florence some article of dress, which she would need. He was not surprised when Frank, taking him aside, modestly asked for his daughter; he said, "Yes," almost as readily as Florence had done, and then it was hard telling which seemed most happy—Frank or Dr. Lacey.
The 24th of December came at last. We at the North who, during six months of the year, blow our benumbed fingers, can scarcely imagine how bright and beautiful are some of the clear warm days of a Kentucky winter. On this occasion, as if Nature had resolved to do her best, the day was soft and sunny as in early autumn, presenting a striking contrast to the wild, angry storm which rent the sky when once more 'neath Uncle Joshua's roof a bridal party was assembled.
As night approached, carriage after carriage rolled up the long, graveled pathway, until Ike declared, "Thar was no more room in the barns, and if any more came he'd have to drive them into the kitchen."
Up and down the broad stairway tripped light and joyous footsteps until the rooms above, which Luce had put in so exact order, presented a scene of complete confusion. Bandboxes were turned bottom-side up and their contents indiscriminately [pg 236] scattered until it was impossible to tell what was yours and what wasn't.