How good it was to be alive
in such a world of beauty! A meadow lark throbbed its three notes
at her joyfully to emphasize their kinship. An English pheasant
strutted across the path and disappeared into the ferns. Neither
the man nor the woman spoke. All the glad day called them to the
emotional climax toward which they were racing.
Womanlike, Alice attempted to evade what she most desired. He was
to be her mate. She knew it now. But the fear of him was in her
heart.
"Were you so fond of him? Is that why you did it for him?" she
asked.
"I didn't do it for him."
"For whom then?"
He did not answer. Nor did his eyes meet hers. They were fixed on
the moving ferns where the pheasant had disappeared.
Alice guessed. He had done it for the girl because he thought her
in love with his cousin. A warm glow suffused her. No man made
such a sacrifice for a woman unless he cared for her.
The meadow lark flung out another carefree ecstasy. The theme of
it was the triumphant certainty that love is the greatest thing in
the world. Jeff felt that it was now or never.
"I love you. It's been hidden in my heart more than eight years,
but I find I must tell you.
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