"
"You thought that!" exclaimed Sylvia; "it was very wrong of you."
"Right or wrong, I did it," said I, "and now I have her, my dear little
nun, here in my arms."
She ceased to push and looked up at me with a merry smile.
"Do you remember," she said, "the morning the wasp came near stinging
me?"
"Indeed I do," I said vehemently.
"Well, before that wasp came," she continued, "I used to be a good deal
afraid of you. I thought you were very learned and dignified, but after
I was so frightened, and you saw me without my bonnet, and all that, I
felt we were very much more like friends, and that was the very
beginning of my liking you."
"My darling," I exclaimed, "that wasp was the best friend we ever had.
Do you want to see it?" and releasing her, I took from my pocket the
pasteboard box in which I had placed our friend Vespa. As she looked at
the insect, her face was lighted with joyous surprise.
"And that is the same wasp?" she said, "and you kept it?"
"Yes, and shall always keep it," I said, "even now it has not ceased to
be our friend." And then I told her how my desire to take with me this
memento of her had held me back from the rolling Atlantic, and brought
me to her. She raised her face to me with her beautiful eyes in a mist
of tenderness, and this time her arms were extended.
Pages:
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363