‘I am not jealous,’ she said, ‘and since you have another bride—-’
‘Another bride!’ he repeated, with a startled look of surprise.
‘I mean your Church,’ she said gaily.
‘Ah yes,’ he said, relieved. ‘But do you know I find this same bride of mine a somewhat dull companion, and a poor exchange, at any rate, for a bride of flesh and blood. Dearest, I have been thinking it all over! Why should we not realise our old dream, and live in love together?’
Alma stood silent. They were in a lonely part of the park, in a footway winding through its very centre. Close at hand was one of the wooden benches. With beating heart and heightened colour, she strolled to the seat and sat down.
Bradley followed, placed himself by her side, and gently took her hand.
‘Well?’ he said.
She turned her head and looked quietly into his eyes. Her grave fond look brought the bright blood to his own cheeks, and just glancing round to see that they were unobserved, he caught her in his arms and kissed her passionately—on lips that kissed again.
‘Shall it be as I wish?’ he exclaimed.
‘Yes, Ambrose,’ she answered. ‘What you wish, I wish too; now as always, your will is my law.’