O Elspeth, I know I am no hero of
romance, but a plain body whom Fate has forced into a month of
wildness. I shall go back to Virginia, and be set once more at my
accompts and ladings. Think well, my dear, for I will have nothing less
than all. Can you endure to spend your days with a homely fellow like
me?"
"What does a woman desire?" she asked, as if from herself, and her
voice was very soft as she gazed over the valley. "Men think it is a
handsome face or a brisk air or a smooth tongue. And some will have it
that it is a deep purse or a high station. But I think it is the honest
heart that goes all the way with a woman's love. We are not so blind as
to believe that the glitter is the gold. We love romance, but we seek
it in its true home. Do you think I would marry you for gratitude,
Andrew?"
"No," I said.
"Or for admiration?"
"No," said I.
"Or for love?"
"Yes," I said, with a sudden joy.
She slipped from the rock, her eyes soft and misty. Her arms were about
my neck, and I heard from her the words I had dreamed of and yet scarce
hoped for, the words of the song sung long ago to a boy's ear, and
spoken now with the pure fervour of the heart--"My dear and only love."
Years have flown since that day on the hills, and much has befallen;
but the prologue is the kernel of my play, and the curtain which rose
after that hour revealed things less worthy of chronicle.
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