Herminia fixed her piercing eyes upon his face once more. Tears
stood in them now. The tenderness of woman was awakened within
her. "Dear Alan," she said gently, "don't I tell you I have
thought long since of all that? I am PREPARED to face it. It is
only a question of with whom I shall do so. Shall it be with the
man I have instinctively loved from the first moment I saw him,
better than all others on earth, or shall it be with some lesser?
If my heart is willing, why should yours demur to it?"
"Because I love you too well," Alan answered doggedly.
Herminia rose and faced him. Her hands dropped by her side. She
was splendid when she stood so with her panting bosom. "Then you
decide to say good-bye?" she cried, with a lingering cadence.
Alan seized her by both wrists, and drew her down to his side.
"No, no, darling," he answered low, laying his lips against hers.
"I can never say good-bye. You have confessed you love me. When a
woman says that, what can a man refuse her? From such a woman as
you, I am so proud, so proud, so proud of such a confession; how
could I ever cease to feel you were mine,--mine, mine, wholly mine
for a lifetime?"
"Then you consent?" Herminia cried, all aglow, half nestling to his
bosom.
"I consent," Alan answered, with profound misgivings. "What else
do you leave open to me?"
Herminia made no direct answer; she only laid her head with perfect
trust upon the man's broad shoulder. "O Alan," she murmured low,
letting her heart have its way, "you are mine, then; you are mine.
You have made me so happy, so supremely happy."