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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"Quill's Window"

Then the door opened and closed behind her.
III
Every word of David's letter was impressed on Alix's brain. Over and
over again she repeated to herself certain passages as she strode
rapidly through the winding lanes. She spoke them tenderly,
wonderingly, and her eyes were shining.
DEAREST ALIX:
I have always loved you. I want you to know it. There has never been
an hour in all these years that I have not thought of you, that your
dear face has not been before me. In France, here, everywhere,--always
I am looking into your eyes, always I am hearing your voice, always
I am feeling the gentle touch of your hand. Now you know. I could
not have told you before. I am the blacksmith's son. God knows I
am not ashamed of that. But I cannot forget, nor can you, that a
blacksmith's son lies buried at the top of that grim old hill, and
that he was not good enough for the daughter of a Windom. I hear
that you have given your heart to some one else. You will marry
him. But to the end of your days,--and I hope they may be many,--I
want you to know that there is one man who will love you with all
his heart and all his soul to the end of HIS days. I hope you will
be happy. It is my greatest, my only wish. Once upon a time, we
stole away, you and I, to write romances of love and adventure. Even
then, you were my heroine. I was putting you into my poor story,
but you were putting your dreams into yours, and I was not your
dream hero.


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