He drew her closer, and Amelie permitted him to impress a kiss on each eyelid as she closed it; suddenly she started up.
"Pierre," said she, "you said you were a soldier and so practical.
I feel shame to myself for being so imaginative and so silly. I too would be practical if I knew how. This was to be a day of business with us, was it not, Pierre?"
"And is it not a day of business, Amelie? or are we spending it like holiday children, wholly on pleasure? But after all, love is the business of life, and life is the business of eternity,--we are transacting it to-day, Amelie! I never was so seriously engaged as at this moment, nor you either, darling; tell the truth!"
Amelie pressed her hands in his. "Never, Pierre, and yet I cannot see the old brown woods of Belmont rising yonder upon the slopes of St. Foye without remembering my promise, not two hours old, to talk with you to-day about the dear old mansion."
"That is to be the nest of as happy a pair of lovers as ever went to housekeeping; and I promised to keep soberly by your side as I am doing," said he, mischievously twitching a stray lock of her dark hair, "and talk with you on the pretty banks of the Lairet about the old mansion."
"Yes, Pierre, that was your promise, if I would walk this way with you. Where shall we begin?"
"Here, Amelie," replied he, kissing her fondly; "now the congress is opened! I am your slave of the wonderful lamp, ready to set up and pull down the world at your bidding. The old mansion is your own.
It shall have no rest until it becomes, within and without, a mirror of the perfect taste and fancy of its lawful mistress."
"Not yet, Pierre. I will not let you divert me from my purpose by your flatteries. The dear old home is perfect, but I must have the best suite of rooms in it for your noble father, and the next best for good Dame Rochelle. I will fit them up on a plan of my own, and none shall say me nay; that is all the change I shall make."
"Is that all? and you tried to frighten the slave of the lamp with the weight of your commands. A suite of rooms for my father, and one for good Dame Rochelle! Really, and what do you devote to me, Amelie?"
"Oh, all the rest, with its mistress included, for the reason that what is good enough for me is good enough for you, Pierre," said she gaily.
"You little economist! Why, one would say you had studied housekeeping under Madame Painchaud."
"And so I have. You do not know what a treasure I am, Pierre," said she, laughing merrily. "I graduated under mes tantes in the kitchen of the Ursulines, and received an accessit as bonne menagere which in secret I prize more than the crown of honor they gave me."
"My fortune is made, and I am a rich man for life," exclaimed Pierre, clapping his hands; "why, I shall have to marry you like the girls of Acadia, with a silver thimble on your finger and a pair of scissors at your girdle, emblems of industrious habits and proofs of a good housewife!"
"Yes, Pierre, and I will comb your hair to my own liking. Your valet is a rough groom," said she, taking off his hat and passing her finger through his thick, fair locks.
Pierre, although always dressed and trimmed like a gentleman, really cared little for the petit maitre fashions of the day. Never had he felt a thrill of such exquisite pleasure as when Amelie's hands arranged his rough hair to her fancy.
"My blessed Amelie!" said he with emotion, pressing her finger to his lips, "never since my mother combed my boyish locks has a woman's hand touched my hair until now."
Leaning her head fondly against the shoulder of Pierre, she bade him repeat to her again, to her who had not forgotten one word or syllable of the tale he had told her before, the story of his love.
She listened with moistened eyelids and heaving bosom as he told her again of his faithfulness in the past, his joys in the present, and his hopes in the future. She feared to look up lest she should break the charm, but when he had ended she turned to him passionately and kissed his lips and his hands, murmuring, "Thanks, my Pierre, I will be a true and loving wife to you!"
He strained her to his bosom, and held her fast, as if fearful to let her go.
"Her image at that last embrace, Ah! little thought he 'twas the last!"
Dim twilight crept into the valley. It was time to return home.
Pierre and Amelie, full of joy in each other, grateful for the happiest day in their lives, hopeful of to-morrow and many to- morrows after it, and mercifully blinded to what was really before them, rose from their seat under the great spreading elm. They slowly retraced the path through the meadow leading to the bridge, and reentered the highway which ran to the city, where Pierre conducted Amelie home.
