"What else could I do?" Morgan answered rather gloomily. "He is my host and yours, and would take offence—particularly as I have been the winner all along. Besides, it wouldn't do not to go for a little while. Do you know what I've decided to do?" he added, bright again. "I'm going to let Jervais win rather heavily, and then suggest that we come back here."
Natalia met his brightness only half-way.
"I suppose you will have to do it, but you will come back soon?"
"You have my word for it."
"Well, then, I suppose I'll have to be contented." Natalia smiled again. "But after to-day, when everybody has gone away, and Brother Joel and Millicent are on their way to New Orleans, and we shall be here all alone—you must not let a single thing, no matter how great, take you away from me. Just you and I—all alone! I've planned each day—almost every moment!"
They strolled a little way down the hill, to where the ground rolled precipitately to the river. The opposite shore was still grey and misty with the retreating night, and over the stretch of wilderness hung a blue veil of mystery.
"The Indians call it 'The Land of the Setting Sun,'" Natalia said, looking out before her. "Poor wild creatures! It seems the only land left them now. To me it always seemed the future. One thinks one sees it, yet it is all vague and unknown."
"That is not the way with our future, though," Morgan replied, gathering Natalia in his arms. "Ours is neither vague nor unknown. This day is a symbol of what it is to be. It will be only happiness," he kissed her, "happiness—and happiness again!"
The day deepened in beauty as the hours passed, and all the while elaborate decorations were being arranged throughout the house. Many friends came, bringing wagon loads of trailing vines and ferns and wild hydrangeas. Festoons of Southern smilax were twined about the columns and draped from one to the other, so that the old house looked gay and youthful, as it had many years ago; and along the veranda, tables were placed on which stood tall crystal globes protecting the candles which were to illumine the place at nightfall; and along the balustrade of the upper balcony was a row of candles which encircled the house, and would make it a blaze of glory.
In the grove hundreds of transparences were hung high among the thick foliage, vying with the white blossoms in doing honour to the occasion; two big piles of brush were placed far out on the road beyond the gate, which were to be set ablaze in the evening and light the late arrivals on their way.