She wished the geraniums were less
rose-red and more scarlet in hue. It was the scarlet he had approved
of--that evening that he and she the little Polish lady had dined
together.
She had not long to wait. With a quick, intense consciousness she heard
the hansom drive up, and the rapid knock that followed; her heart
throbbed through the seconds of silence; then she knew that he was
ascending the stair; then it seemed to her as if the life would go out
of her altogether. But when he flung the door open and came toward her;
when he caught her two hands in his--one hand in each hand--and held
them tight; when, in a silence that neither cared to break, he gazed
into her rapidly moistening eyes--then the full tide of joy and courage
returned to her heart, and she was proud that she had sent him that
answer. For some seconds--to be remembered during a life time--they
regarded each other in silence; then he released her hands, and began to
put back the hair from her forehead as if he would see more clearly into
the troubled deeps of her eyes; and then, somehow--perhaps to hide her
crying--she buried her face in his breast, and his arms were around her,
and she was sobbing out all the story of her waiting and her despair.
Pages:
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385