Then she carried the letter to Anneli,
who she knew was waiting outside. That done, she shut herself in again,
to give herself time to think, though in truth she could scarcely think
at all. For all sorts of emotions were struggling for the mastery of
her--joy and a proud resolve distinctly predominant. It was done, and
she would abide by it. She was not given to fear.
But she tried hard to think. At last her lover was coming to her; he
would ask her what she was prepared to do: what would she answer?
Then, again, the joy of the thought that she was about to see him drove
every other consideration out of her mind. How soon might he be here?
Hurriedly she went to a jar of flowers on the table, chose some scarlet
geraniums, and turned to a mirror. Her haste did not avail much, for her
fingers were still trembling: but that was the color he had said, on one
occasion, suited her best. She had not been wearing flowers in her hair
of late.
From time to time, for a second or so, some thought of her father
intervened. But then her father had only enjoined her to dismiss forever
the hope of her marrying the man to whom she had given her heart and
her life: that could not prevent her loving him, and seeing him, and
telling him that her love was his.
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