Birds have sung as blithely--perhaps; the sun may have beamed as
kindly and brooks have laughed as joyously as this chattering rill of
ours, but as for me, I soberly doubt it.
"Peregrine," said she at last, "where is my locket?"
"Here!" said I, reaching the case from my pocket. "When your singing
woke me to this wonderful, glorious morning, I brought it to find
you."
"How pretty it is!" she sighed happily, touching it tenderly with the
extreme tip of one slender finger.
"It isn't anything near good enough," said I, viewing it a little
gloomily, "I will get you one infinitely better--"
"No!" said she. "This is what I shall always love best," and stooping,
she touched the trinket with the heaven of her mouth. Then, being upon
our knees, she stooped her head that I might set it about her throat,
but what with her nearness and the touch of her velvety neck, I
bungled the business sadly, so that she lifted her two hands to aid me
and her lips being so near, how could I help but kiss her.
"Now this, Peregrine!" she commanded, drawing my mouth to the locket
where it hung. And so I kissed the locket and chain and throat and
neck until she laughed, a little tremulously, and slipping from my
hold, sprang to her feet and fled away.
And now, being upon my knees, I bowed my head and passionately
besought a blessing on this sweet-souled Diana, this woman of mine,
and upon our love and the years that were to be.
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