And it seemed so wonderful, so incredible, that he should have fallen in

love with her, that he should have chosen her; as his queen, as his

wife. She tried to draw a mental picture of herself, to account for his

preference for her, and failed to find any reason for it. He had said

that she was--beautiful. Oh, no--no! He must have met a hundred women

prettier than she was; but he had chosen her. How strange! how

wonderful! Sleep came to her at last, but it was a sleep broken by

dreams--dreams in which Drake--she could think of him as "Drake"--held

her in his arms and murmured his love. She could feel his kisses on her

lips, her hair. Once the dream turned and twisted somewhat, and he and

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she seemed separated--a vague something came between them, an intangible

mist or cloud which neither could pass, though they stood with

outstretched hands and yearning hearts; but this dream passed, and she

slept the sleep of joy and peaceful happiness.

Happiness! It is given to so few to know happiness that one would like

to linger over the days which followed their betrothal. For every day

was an idyl. Drake had resolved to send the horses up to London for

sale; he had given Sparling notice, six months' wages, and a character

which would insure him a good place; but he clung to the horses, and

Nell and Dick and he had some famous rides before the nags went to

Tattersall's.

And what rides they were! Dick, wise beyond his years, would lag behind

or canter a long way in front; and Nell and Drake would be left alone to

whisper together, or clasp hands in silent ecstasy.

And there was the _Annie Laurie_. To sail before the wind, with the sun

shining brightly from the blue sky upon the opal sea; to hold his

beloved in his arms; to feel the warmth of her lips on his; to know that

in a few short weeks she would be his own, his wife!--the rapture of it

made him catch his breath and fall into a rapt silence.

One day, as they were sailing homeward, the _Annie Laurie_ speeding on a

flowing tide and a favorable breeze, his longing became almost

insupportable.

"See here, Nell," he said, with the timidity of the man whose every

pulse is throbbing with passion, "why--why shouldn't we be married at

once? I mean, what is the use of waiting?"

"Married!"

She drew away from him and caught her breath.

"Why not?" he asked. "I shan't be any the richer for waiting, and--and I

want you very badly."




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