“Wait. Don't go, dear.”
The last word came faintly, unexpectedly. The enticement of the appeal went to his head. He had shaken her out of the indifference that was her pride. One arm slipped round her waist. His other hand tilted back her head until he could look into the eyes in which a new fire had been kindled.
“What about that almost glad? If I stay will you forget all qualifying words and be just glad?”
She nodded quickly, laughing ever so softly. “Yes, I'll help you listen to the birds sing. Do you know I can almost hear them?”
James drew a deep breath and caught her swiftly to him. “New York will have to wait till to-morrow. The birds will sing to-night and we will not count the cost.”
“Yes, my lord,” she answered demurely.
For to-night she wanted to forget that their birds were only caged canaries.
CHAPTER 23
“And what are the names of the Fortunate Isles,
Lo! duty and love and a large content;
And these are the Isles of the watery miles
That God let down from the firmament.
Lo! duty and love and a true man's trust,
Your forehead to God and your feet in the dust:
Lo! duty and love and a sweet babe's smiles,
And these, O friends, are the Fortunate Isles.”