Good Books

"A throne is for a king--will
not Sir Phillip sit there?"
"There's a compliment for you, Phil!" cried Lorrimer, waving his torch
enthusiastically. "Let us awaken the echoes with the shout of 'Long live
the King!'"
But Errington approached Thelma, and taking her hand in his, said
gently--
"Come! let us see you throned in state, Queen Thelma! To please
me,--come!"
She looked up--the flame of the bright torch he carried illumined his
face, on which love had written what she could not fail to read,--but
she trembled as with cold, and there was a kind of appalling winder in
her troubled eyes. He whispered, "come, Queen Thelma!" As in a dream,
she allowed him to lead her to the stalactite chair, and when she was
seated therein, she endeavored to control the rapid beating of her
heart, and to smile unconcernedly on the little group that surrounded
her with shouts of mingled mirth and admiration.
"Ye look just fine!" said Macfarlane with undisguised delight. "Ye'd
mak' a grand picture, wouldn't she, Errington?"
Phillip gazed at her, but said nothing--his head was too full.


Pages:
329 330 331 332 333 334 335 336 337 338 339 340 341 342 343 344 345 346 347 348 349 350 351 352 353