Not till then did Sara notice it. She
turned, rose, and stepped forward; and as the figure advanced to meet
her, it stood full in the light streaming through the drawing-room
windows.
"Robert?" she questioned, still in a dream, and not realizing that she
had used a name only whispered in her own heart till now.
"Yes, Sara," was the reply, "I have come--were you waiting for me?"
Still only half herself, so sudden and surprising was all this, she
answered in his own tone, quiet, but threaded with deep meaning,--
"Yes, I--think I was."
He drew her to him, whispered three little words--and the new moon, just
dipping her last upturned horn beneath the horizon, may have seen their
kiss of betrothal; but if so, she modestly withdrew from sight, and
never told the sweet secret.
I suppose my story should properly end here, but Sara felt that hers was
just beginning. With arm linked in arm the two went softly down the
steps, and strolled through the odorous hush of the garden, trying to
tell the emotions of three years in as many minutes, while the
unconscious couple within sang, and sparred, and sang again, perfectly
certain of their unseen listener outside. After the first few moments,
in which they could think of nothing but their own two selves, so
strangely and quickly bound into one, Sara asked,--
"But how did you happen to be here just now, Robert?"
"Because I came! I was like a chained beast all the time you were ill,
though Molly's letters gave only the most cheering news, but I knew I
couldn't see you if I were here, and I mustn't leave aunt; but when word
came from uncle that he was down with a malarial attack at Omaha, on his
way home, and she started at once to nurse him, I made up my mind very
shortly as to my next move--which was to pack my grip and come on, to
'put my courage to the test, to win or lose it all.
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