somewhat oppressed by all the talk. The
still peacefulness of the evening, only broken by the sleepy twittering
of the birds, seemed to calm and refresh her.

"Malcolm," she said presently, "did you hear what Mrs. Godfrey was
telling me at dinner--that Mr. Rossiter is coming to the Manor House?"

"Yes, I heard her," was the reply. "The Colonel was talking to me this
afternoon; he says it is a foregone conclusion that Leah Jacobi will
not refuse him a third time. His kindness and devotion after her
brother's death have already won her gratitude. Hugh Rossiter is one of
the best fellows I know," he observed, "and Leah will be a happy woman
the day she marries him. And marry him she will, you may take my word
for it."

"Poor Leah, I am so glad he cares for her. Of course you know Mrs.
Richardson is dying, Malcolm, and that she is likely to be left alone
in the world?"

"Yes, and then Hugh Rossiter will have his innings." And Malcolm was
right, for before long the news of Leah's marriage reached them.

"I am so glad Mrs. Godfrey told me that," went on Elizabeth. "I want
every one to be as happy as we are to-night. But for saying good-bye to
Die and Mr. Carlyon I should not have a care. I can think of David
without sadness, and life looks so beautiful. Dear," with the vivid,
bright smile he loved so well, "I am so glad you are an author and a
famous man--I shall be so proud of you; and though I cannot share your
work as some women could, I can help you in other ways. I must be your
right hand, Malcolm."

"Shall I tell you what you will be to me," he returned, in a voice of
deep, vibrating tenderness that thrilled her through and through. "I
once read an old Scandinavian ballad where a warrior calls his love 'My
dearest Rest.' 'Three grateful words,' the annotator goes on to say,
'and the most perfect crown of praise that ever woman won.' Shall I
call you that, Elizabeth?--'my dearest Rest.'"

"It is far too beautiful for me," she whispered; "I do not deserve it."
But even as Elizabeth said this, her woman's heart registered its first
wifely vow.

Yes, she would be that to him--his haven and comfort when he was weary
with the storm and stress of life--God helping her, now and for ever
"his dearest Rest."

THE END

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Herb of Grace, by Rosa Nouchette Carey

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HERB OF GRACE ***

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