Diana Tempest - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"Ah, Di," he said, "you are very generous. But do not let us speak of it again. Such a thing could not be."
He took her hand, but she withdrew it instantly.
"John," she said with dignity, "you misunderstand me. It would be a poor kind of generosity in me to offer what it is impossible for you to accept. You wound me by thinking I could do such a thing. I only meant to ask you to keep your present name and home for a little while, until--they both will become yours again by right--the day when--you marry me."
A beautiful colour had mounted to Di's face. John's became white as death.
"Do you love me?" he said hoa.r.s.ely, shaking from head to foot.
"Yes," she replied, trembling as much as he.
He held her in his arms. The steadfast heart that understood and loved him beat against his own.
"Di!" he stammered--"Di!"
And they wept and clung together like two children.
POSTSCRIPT.
Mitty's packing was never finished--why, she did not understand. But John, who helped her to rearrange her things, understood, and that was enough for her. For many springs and spring cleanings the horse-chestnut buds peered in at the nursery windows and found her still within. I think the wishes of Mitty's heart all came to pa.s.s, and that she loved "Miss Dinah;" but nevertheless I believe that, to the end of life, she never quite ceased to regret the little kitchen that John had spoken of, where she would have made "rock buns" for her lamb, and waited on him "hand and foot."
