"There, Geraldine," I said, "you see Mrs. Williams knows how I have thought of you."
"Did I want Mrs. Williams to tell me?"
"At all events it is well to have a witness."
She slipped her soft little hand into mine as we left the room; and so, conducted by Mrs. Williams, we passed from one room to another. My darling's delight was genuine. Her child-like pleasure at all she saw was delicious to me to watch. She was incessant in her praises of Mrs. Williams' taste and orderliness; and to do that good woman justice, she deserved all the admiration she received. She listened complacently to Geraldine's prattle; and when she found that she was no longer required, slipped quietly away.
We stood at the drawing-room window. She had thrown aside her hat, and the sunlight made gold of her beautiful hair.
"Do you like Elmore Court?" I asked.
"It is a sweet home."
"And do you think you will be happy here?"
"Cannot you guess? I feel perfectly happy now, Arthur; and that implies great trust in you—if I did not think you loved me with all your strength I could not be happy. Yet there was a time when I thought I could never be happy again—never happy again," she repeated, with a little sigh. "It was winter with me then, but it is summer now. It is sweet to be loved. There are women who say they could live without love; but I do not believe them. Women were born to be loved."
"Some women were," I answered, toying with her hand.