“Why, good-morning, Mr. Ellerton,” she said, striving to cover her confusion by speaking lightly. “How you surprised me. I thought I was the only one stirring so early this morning.”
“Pardon me for startling you, but I have been up since sunrise,
‘Over the hills and far away.’
I have but just come in, and stepped out upon the balcony to enjoy the glorious view.”
“It is fine, isn’t it? Poor papa used to enjoy it so much,” she replied, sadly, the tears springing to her eyes; then added, “This was always his favorite resort, and he would sit for hours upon the balcony and gaze upon the scenery around.”
She picked up the flower he had thrown into her lap, inhaled its fragrance, and then fastened it upon her bosom.
He smiled slightly at the act, and she, suddenly looking up, caught his eye fixed upon her, and again the rich blood suffused her face, but she did not remove the flower.
“Enid,” said Ralph, tenderly, “may I interpret that as a good omen? May I tell you of my love after waiting so long?”
“There is no need to tell it, Ralph; I knew it long ago,” she replied, in tones as tender, and with an irresistible frankness.
“Darling, your tones tell me if your words do not, that you return it, unworthy as I am,” he said, as he passionately clasped her in his arms.