“In your own land, did you never love?” he asked, holding her to him in an agony of suspense. For he was not satisfied that she should love him now, but wanted to feel that he had been her only love.
“Never! Ahleka, never! The young men in my land are not nature’s children as you are, living pure and wholesome lives, but most of them are dissipated, and vicious creatures to be abhorred, rather than loved, or else, weak, worthless beings that no noble woman could give herself to without degrading herself. The men of my land do not study nature in her wondrous, varying moods, as you do. Nor do they make manly vigor and perfection their first aim in life. They have no time to give thought to these things; they are taken up in the mad rush in the pursuit of money.”
“And is not love before money?”
“No, in my land men and women work for money, beg for money, steal for money, marry for money, love for money. No, in all my life you are the only man, the purity of whose motives, whose highness of aim, whose nobleness of nature, has made him worthy of my devotion.”
He drew her yielding form closer, and stroked her sunny hair softly as he said, “We are from this moment consecrated to one another, and you shall never have one moment when the sunlight of happiness is dimmed, if Ahleka can keep the shadow from falling on the heart of her, who is dearer to him than life itself.”
How long the happy pair would have remained reclining under the fragrant trees, with the sweet songs of bright, winged birds, and the soft plash of the waves breaking at their feet, the only sounds to reach their ears, we cannot tell, if at that moment Etta and Kaelea had not come bounding down the beach in the direction of their retreat, Etta crying out to them:
“Oh, you idlers. Why are you not dressed for the feast? The hour of rest is over and every one is ready for the festival, except you two. What in the world have you been about, that you are not ready also?”
The pair of lovers were now on their feet and Ahleka answered, “We shall soon be ready. Come Mabel.”
Etta, full of mischief and realizing the situation, having seen Ahleka’s arm clasped around Mabel, called after them: “Mabel, don’t let him play the part of prince charming.”
Mabel blushed, for she remembered how angry that same remark had made her two years and a half ago. She made no answer, but cast a merry look back at the two girls who were following them to the village.