She wrote me they were to be married on
Christmas Eve. I am so glad it has come round at last."
Then she questioned him of the bridal, of Arthur, and even of Anna's
dress, her manner evincing that the old wound had healed and nothing
but a sear remained to tell where it had been. And so the days went on
beneath the sunny Italian skies, until one glorious night, when
Thornton spoke his mind, alluding to the time when each loved another,
expressing himself as glad that, in his case, the matter had ended as
it did, and then asking Lucy if she could conscientiously be his wife.
"What, you marry a frivolous plaything like me?" Lucy asked, her
woman's pride flashing up once more, but this time playfully, as
Thornton knew by the joyous light in her eye.
She told him what she meant and how she had hated him for it, and then
they laughed together; but Thornton's kiss smothered the laugh on
Lucy's lips, for he guessed what her answer was, and that this, his
second wooing, was more successful than his first.
* * * * *
"Married, in Rome, on Thursday, April 10th, Thornton Hastings, Esq.,
of New York City, to Miss Lucy Harcourt, also of New York, and niece
of Colonel James Hetherton.
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