“LOVE IS LORD OF ALL.”
Two years, and the grass was green on Royall Sherwood’s grave.
Many times had a beautiful form, robed in somber black, knelt by that
low, green mound; many times had Daisie hung flowers upon the broken
marble shaft, and watered them with her gentle tears.
For “pity is akin to love,” and Daisie did not have to pretend a sorrow
she did not feel. Her grief was deep and fervent for the hopeful life
cut off in its morning.
Once, when Lutie Fleming had come with her to the grave, she had said
mournfully:
“Oh, if he had lived I must have learned to love him by and by--he must
have won me by the strength of his own love. Now I will always live
single for his sake.”
“No, Daisie, do not say that in your grief and remorse, for there was
another who was so cruelly wronged in the past that you must soon begin
to think of his claims. You know whom I mean, dear.”
Yes, Daisie knew. Soon after Royall’s death he had sent her one
sympathetic line:
God bless you, my sweet little Daisie!
And so noble and gentle was his heart that he did not, for more than a
year, intrude on the quiet mourning for the dead by recalling himself
to her memory.
Yet Dallas knew that she would not forget.
When a year had passed, Mrs. Fleming showed how much her heart had
changed by saying:
“You ought to lighten your mourning now, Daisie. Lord Werter has been
very patient and forgiving, but he will be coming soon.”
And within the month came another short letter:
May I come now, Daisie? Or have you changed?
The answer went back:
Be patient a little longer that we may not seem cold or selfish
to the world. But I am the same loving Daisie.
Pretty Annette was married long ago, and had made her wedding tour to
Europe. When she returned she had much to tell of the glories of Lord
Werter’s ancestral home, and of the month she had spent as his guest.
“Oh, Daisie, how dearly he loves you, and what a happy bride you will
be! Almost as happy as I am with Ray!” she added, with a fond glance at
her adoring husband.
Ray Dering was a changed man--purged of his worst fault by sorrow and
suffering, and humbly grateful to Heaven that had permitted him to
atone for the evil he had wrought.
Lutie Fleming, too, was changed for the better.
She had conquered her love for Lord Werter, realizing at last its
hopelessness.
And from hating Daisie Bell with the passion of a jealous rival, she
had grown to love her as a sister.
“Who could help from loving you, Daisie? You are so noble and good! No
one but an angel could have forgiven me my sins,” she cried over and
over.
So when Lord Werter crossed the sea to claim his bonny bride, she was
unselfishly glad that the long-parted lovers would be happy at last.
All due respect had been paid the memory of her cousin, who had been
dead two years, and Daisie had a right to her happiness. Even Aunt
Alice, who was the most censorious of mortals, agreed that it was so,
and she and Doctor Burns came from Gull Beach to the grand June wedding
that took place from Mrs. Fleming’s home, where Daisie had lived the
most of the time since Royall’s death, to please the repentant woman.
Ah, what a meeting they had, those two fond lovers, once so cruelly
parted, now united till death by the marriage vow!
Sorrow had only intensified their love and made their trust in each
other’s constancy more perfect. With hearts full of joy they clasped
hands at God’s holy altar, and sailed away, leaving sorrowing hearts
behind them, but sure of a glad welcome awaiting the bonny bride in her
new home.
THE END.
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Transcriber’s Notes
Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations
in hyphenation and accents have been standardised but all other
spelling and punctuation remains unchanged.
Italics are represented thus _italic_, superscripts thus y^n.