But Daisie Bell was too beautiful not to be missed, even in that brilliant throng, even had not Royall Sherwood impatiently questioned his cousin as to her absence.
“She has gone upstairs to remove the wedding veil that she was so reluctant to don, and will return presently,” answered Mrs. Fleming; but though Royall loitered near the stairway for half an hour, she did not come.
Half an hour of the keenest impatience and longing for him, of the most exquisite joy for Dallas and Daisie.
Between the two lovers there had been full explanations of everything, and renewed trust and confidence.
As they lingered there in the moonlight beneath the fragrant rose vine, with the voice of the sea blending in their ears with the lilt of merry music, their hands entwined, their hearts in unison, there came to them a foretaste of heaven, if ’tis true, as poets tell us, that——
Love is heaven, and heaven is love.
“And you will give up your fine, rich lover for me, my Daisie—for me, with love in a cottage?” cried Dallas fondly.
“Can you doubt it?” she whispered back, blushing beneath the kiss with which he rewarded her devotion.
“You will be my own sweet bride! Oh, what joy—what bliss! How—how have I deserved such a boon from Heaven!” he cried, remembering his agony just now, when he believed she was giving herself away to his rival. “Oh, Daisie,” he continued, “you shall never repent your sweet trust in me! I will make your life a dream of love and happiness. You say Royall Sherwood told you that my life was clouded with mystery, and that all mystery hid dishonor. Well, all shall be explained to you, and you shall know better, my precious love!”
But at that moment they heard a light, grating laugh, and saw before them Mrs. Fleming leaning on Royall Sherwood’s arm.