Be you kind, Dear Roy, my brother! speak of this no more, Lest pleading and denying should divide The hearts so long united. Let me find In you my cousin and my friend of yore.
And now come home. The morning, all too soon And unperceived, has melted into noon.
Helen will miss us, and we must return."
He took my hand, and helped me to arise, Smiling upon me with his sad, dark eyes, Where passion's fires had, sudden, ceased to burn.
"And so," he said, "too soon and unforeseen My friendship melted into love, Maurine.
But, sweet! I am not wholly in the blame For what you term my folly. You forgot, So long we'd known each other, I had not In truth a brother's or a cousin's claim.
But I remembered, when through every nerve Your lightest touch went thrilling; and began To love you with that human love of man For comely woman. By your coaxing arts, You won your way into my heart of hearts, And all Platonic feelings put to rout.
A maid should never lay aside reserve With one who's not her kinsman, out and out.
But as we now, with measured steps, retrace The path we came, e'en so my heart I'll send, At your command, back to the olden place, And strive to love you only as a friend."
I felt the justice of his mild reproof, But answered, laughing, "'Tis the same old cry:
'The woman tempted me, and I did eat.'
Since Adam's time we've heard it. But I'll try And be more prudent, sir, and hold aloof The fruit I never once had thought so sweet 'Twould tempt you any. Now go dress for dinner, Thou sinned against! as also will the sinner.
And guard each act, that no least look betray What's passed between us."
Then I turned away And sought my room, low humming some old air That ceased upon the threshold; for mine eyes Fell on a face so glorified and fair All other senses, merged in that of sight, Were lost in contemplation of the bright And wond'rous picture, which had otherwise Made dim my vision.
Waiting in my room, Her whole face lit as by an inward flame That shed its halo 'round her, Helen stood; Her fair hands folded like a lily's leaves Weighed down by happy dews of summer eves.
Upon her cheek the colour went and came As sunlight flickers o'er a bed of bloom; And, like some slim young sapling of the wood, Her slender form leaned slightly; and her hair Fell 'round her loosely, in long curling strands All unconfined, and as by loving hands Tossed into bright confusion.
Standing there, Her starry eyes uplifted, she did seem Like some unearthly creature of a dream; Until she started forward, gliding slowly, And broke the breathless silence, speaking lowly, As one grown meek, and humble in an hour, Bowing before some new and mighty power.
"Maurine, Maurine!" she murmured, and again, "Maurine, my own sweet friend, Maurine!"
And then, Laying her love-light hands upon my head, She leaned, and looked into my eyes, and said With voice that bore her joy in ev'ry tone, As winds that blow across a garden bed Are weighed with fragrance, "He is mine alone, And I am his--all his--his very own.
So pledged this hour, by that most sacred tie Save one beneath God's over-arching sky.
I could not wait to tell you of my bliss:
I want your blessing, sweetheart! and your kiss."
So hiding my heart's trouble with a smile, I leaned and kissed her dainty mouth; the while I felt a guilt-joy, as of some sweet sin, When my lips fell where his so late had been.
And all day long I bore about with me A sense of shame--yet mixed with satisfaction, As some starved child might steal a loaf, and be Sad with the guilt resulting from her action, While yet the morsel in her mouth was sweet.
That ev'ning when the house had settled down To sleep and quiet, to my room there crept A lithe young form, robed in a long white gown:
With steps like fall of thistle-down she came, Her mouth smile-wreathed; and, breathing low my name, Nestled in graceful beauty at my feet.
"Sweetheart," she murmured softly, "ere I sleep, I needs must tell you all my tale of joy.
Beginning where you left us--you and Roy.
You saw the colour flame upon my cheek When Vivian spoke of staying. So did he; - And, when we were alone, he gazed at me With such a strange look in his wond'rous eyes.
The silence deepened; and I tried to speak Upon some common topic, but could not, My heart was in such tumult.
In this wise Five happy moments glided by us, fraught With hours of feeling. Vivian rose up then, And came and stood by me, and stroked my hair.
And, in his low voice, o'er and o'er again, Said, 'Helen, little Helen, frail and fair.'
Then took my face, and turned it to the light, And looking in my eyes, and seeing what Was shining from them, murmured, sweet and low, 'Dear eyes, you cannot veil the truth from sight.
You love me, Helen! answer, is it so?'
And I made answer straightway, 'With my life And soul and strength I love you, O my love!'
He leaned and took me gently to his breast, And said, 'Here then this dainty head shall rest Henceforth for ever: O my little dove!
My lily-bud--my fragile blossom-wife!'
And then I told him all my thoughts; and he Listened, with kisses for his comments, till My tale was finished. Then he said, 'I will Be frank with you, my darling, from the start, And hide no secret from you in my heart.