With a beating heart, she sprang quickly
to her lover's side, and as he caught her in his arms, she whispered--
"You have told him?"
"Your father? Yes, my darling!" murmured Philip, as he kissed her sweet,
upturned lips. "Be quite happy--he knows everything. Come, Thelma! tell
me again you love me--I have not heard you say it properly yet!"
She smiled dreamily as she leaned against his breast and looked up into
his eyes.
"I cannot say it properly!" she said. "There is no language for my
heart! If I could tell you all I feel, you would think it foolish, I am
sure, because it is all so wild and strange,"--she stopped, and her face
grew pale,--"oh!" she murmured with a slight tremor; "it is terrible!"
"What is terrible, my sweet one?" asked Errington drawing her more
closely, and folding her more tightly in his arms.
She sighed deeply. "To have no more life of my own!" she answered, while
her low voice quivered with intense feeling. "It has all gone--to you!
And yours has come to me!--is it not strange and almost sad? How your
heart beats, poor boy!--I can hear it throb, throb--so fast!--here,
where I am resting my head.
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