With tears suffusing her sight she turned and extended both hands to Lawrence, who reverently knelt and bowed his head over them.
“Mine own! I may hope to win you now. To be worthy of your sweet love!” Edith and Paul saw, and a quick glance of comprehension flashed from eye to eye.
Owen’s arm encircled his precious Cora and a mystical silence fell over this band of lovers. Who of them all could resist the supreme eloquence of the hour? Margaret leaned her head against Wilbur’s shoulder and Wilbur’s dark head was bowed over Margaret’s fair one, reminding one of “Faust and Gretchen.” Imelda’s wine-brown eyes were drinking in the adoration of Norman’s blue ones. Her hands went up to his face, taking it between them.
“You understand me now?”
“Long, long ago, my dear one.”
And a kiss followed the words, a seal, the emblem of his love and trust.
Milton’s hand pressed a blonde head to his breast and the bright, happy face that is turned up to him promises oblivion for the dark hours in his past life.
Our stately Edith must not be forgotten. A warm glow suffuses her cheeks as she also is drawn closer to a manly breast, and glancing up her dark lustrous eyes meet those of the young physician in unutterable love and trust.
Mrs. Leland is looking on; her eyes wander from the grand structure over the spacious grounds and thence from couple to couple, every face illumined with a commingling of love, hope and joy, as they stand knocking at the door of an unknown world. Will it fulfill all their expectations? Her eyes fill with tears. Unconsciously she folds her hands as she reads the love-lit faces and sees there the fond hopes that unite each lover couple. Presently an arm steals about her neck and a cherished voice says,
“I will be your lover, my own mother. You are too young, by far, to be thus left alone!”