Of happy languor. Now, alone,
We lean upon this grave-yard stone,
Uncheered, unkissed, my heart and I!”
“I can wait yet a little longer,” Lady Edith sighed to herself; but the time seemed long in spite of her resolve at patience. She spent the next three days in seeing the sights of the city, but Thea was always in her thoughts—Thea, and the blue-eyed, golden-haired baby, Arthur’s namesake. How she longed to take them both in her arms and lavish on them the pent-up love of her hungry heart!
“It almost seems as if they belonged to me,” she thought, smilingly.
CHAPTER LIX.
Despite his stay of but a few hours in New York and his hasty journey there and back, it was almost a week between the going and coming of Norman de Vere, and his heart was full of anxiety as he dismissed the hack he had hired at the station and walked up the broad steps of his home just as the soft shadows of twilight were settling over the beautiful Southland where his lot was cast.
“On breezy pinion mournful eve came singing
Over the silent hills, and to the glades
And violet beds a stream of odors bringing,