She sprang to her feet, her eyes flashing through her tears.
"How darest thou?" she cried. "How darest thou ask me such a question as that? Who gave thee the right, sir?" and she gazed at me a moment in her anger, as though she would strike me down, and then, sinking into her chair, she cried as though her heart would break. "I hate thee," she wailed.
"Forgive me," I said gently. "I would not have asked thee, had I known. He is a gentleman, brave and true, and will make thee a kind and upright husband. Thou wilt be happy in the days to come, together. I trust thou wilt believe me, when I say that for thee I wish all good blessings. May thy future pathway be strewn with flowers, and may not a shadow fall athwart it to darken its happiness. Sometimes when thou art happy, leaning upon the strong arm of him whom thou dost love, wilt thou not give one thought to one who once knew and loved thee? And now—good-by!"
Bending my knee, I pressed that little white hand to my lips, and taking her arm I walked with her to the door and opened it—there, pacing the hall, was Bobby.
"I Pressed that Little White Hand to My Lips"
He turned when he saw me, and running forward, caught my hand.
"Thomas!" he cried, "I never thought to see thee alive again."
I returned his cordial grasp.
"Bobby," I said, "take Lady Margaret home, and then come back again, for I have something to say to thee. Care for her tenderly," I said to him, as with the weeping lady upon his arm he turned to go. "Thou hast won the loveliest and fairest woman that I have ever known. It is a priceless jewel, Bobby—guard it well. May God watch over both of you now and in the days to come!" And turning I opened the door of my cell, and passing inside, closed it behind me.