Will you hold them with
my love?"
"They are both very dear to me," she replied, raising the flowers to her
lips.
Their fragrance filled the room while the simple ceremony was being
performed. It was a striking picture, and one not likely to be forgotten.
Levice's eyes filled with proud, pardonable tears as he looked at his
daughter, --for never had she looked as to-day in her simple white gown,
her face like a magnolia bud, a fragrant dream; standing next to Kemp, the
well-mated forms were noticeable. Even Arnold, with his heart like a
crushed ball of lead, acknowledged it in bitter resignation. For him the
scene was one of those silent, purgatorial moments that are approached with
senses steeled and thought held in a vice. To the others it passed, as if
it had happened in a dream. Even when Kemp stooped and pressed his lips
for the first time upon his wife's, the real meaning of what had taken
place seemed far away to Ruth; the present held but one thing in
prominence, --the pale face upon the pillow. She felt her mother's arms
around her; she knew that Louis had raised her hand to his lips, that she
had drawn his head down and kissed him, that Dr. Kemp was standing silently
beside her, that the minister had spoken some gravely pleasant words; but
all the while she wanted to tear herself away from it all and fold that
eager, loving, dying face close to hers.
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