"I don’t know," returned the other with a smile. "You see I should have been forced to refuse you."
"That is just like saying you love him better than me," with quick suspicion.
"No, no; only better than that man you were going to be."
"Well," said Mildred, shrugging her shoulder in a characteristic gesture, "I rather think I should enjoy the refreshing change of being refused once or twice. As for you,—as if I should mind your refusal! I should simply kidnap you." She stooped, and laid her cheek against Clover’s once more.
Aunt Love was a happy woman next day. She was quite a heroine in the small family jubilation.
"All my life I shall owe you twelve added hours of happiness," Page said to her, when she gave him a rousing kiss.
"Well, Mr. Gorham, you know I always was good to you," she responded radiantly, and contented herself all day by drawing Mildred off into corners to discuss this and that detail of "his" and "her" behavior during the past weeks; "trifles light as air," but "confirmation strong" to Aunt Love of a good time coming, and which she dwelt upon with such profound delight and secrecy that Mildred had not the heart to refuse her an audience for all the asides she chose to make.
Gorham Page allowed himself a brief period in which to realize his happiness before returning to Boston, but his energies now turned willingly toward his work as the means by which he could soonest carry Clover to his own home and hers; and before he left, it had been arranged that they should be married the following spring.
The day before the one set for his departure, Jack came out to Clover, who was sitting with some fancy work on the piazza. Page was at the hotel, writing business letters.
"Gorham says your cigars are too strong to be good for you," she said, looking up as he struck a match.
"Yes, he has let out from the shoulder lately," returned Jack, puffing his cigar alight.
"Do listen to him, Jack," said the other pleadingly. "Don’t injure your health."
"What is my health good for?" asked the young fellow, dropping down on the edge of the piazza, upon which he extended one leg, while he embraced the other knee as he leaned against a pillar.
"Don’t talk that way," said Clover. Van Tassel had never heard her use so acute a tone, and he was surprised on looking up to see her eyes swimming. "It is wicked when one has friends who love him as yours do you."