“Merry Christmas! Tommy refused to leave the fire!—the poor old salamander! But being of tougher fibre, here I am to meet you!”
His unexpected appearance had found Grace unprepared and she was grateful for the moment his banter with Irene gave her to adjust herself. He stood with head bared, the wind ruffling his hair. The astrakan collar of his overcoat, turned up about his neck, set off effectively his handsome head and high-bred face. He was indubitably handsome, a man to be noticed in a crowd. Grace felt a new pride in the knowledge that he loved her. She laughed at some mocking reply he gave Irene and found his gaze upon her, the grave eyes all tenderness.
“For heaven’s sake, get in, Ward!” exclaimed Irene. “You’ll catch your death standing there.”
“I’m going to live forever! Grace, are you shod for a walk? Then we’ll let Irene drive on!”
He led the way to a point where the driveway skirted a woods-pasture, and opened a gate. The sense of strangeness at being with him again passed quickly as he began answering her questions about his illness. He declared that he was too well-seasoned to be killed by a cold. And besides he had found that he had something to live for, and that made a difference. A year before he would have relinquished his life without regret; now through her he had found the hope and the promise of life.
“I couldn’t bear the idea of going indoors until I’d had you all to myself a little while.”
The trees rose tall and black against the bluest of winter skies. A southwest wind whined fitfully among the boughs overhead. Grace felt the power of elemental forces in her blood. She was a free spirit in a world where the children of men were created of all time to be free. Through what Trenton was saying and her replies this thought was dominant. It lifted her to a mood of exaltation; it seemed that she could touch the heavens with her finger tips. A branch of brier caught her skirt and Trenton was quickly on his knees to free it. He looked up into her face before he rose and she touched his cheek with her hand,—lightly and caressingly.
“I make you my true knight,” she said. “Arise, Sir Ward!”
He rose and took her in his arms.
“Oh, my dearest! This is worth waiting for; this is worth living for!”