"
"Betty," cried Mr. Ives with a sob, "why do you show me so dismal a
picture? It is bad enough already."
"I have a good reason, dear father," she said. "You see I am going so
soon. I should leave you with so much lighter a heart were Mary here to
take my place. She is kind and good, and true, and would love you
dearly."
Mr. Ives laughed a little.
"Mistress Mary is somewhat old to replace my daughter," he said.
"Then the more suited to be your wife."
Mr. Ives rose to his feet, and paced up and down the room. Suddenly he
stopped, and catching his daughter's hands, looked her full in the face.
"Would she have me, my Bet?" he said. "I may not be too old to wed, but
I am vastly too old to woo."
"She will have you, father," answered Betty. "And you will be quite
happy when I am gone."
So all was settled, and the elderly pair pledged to each other. The
banns were asked in church that their marriage might take place at once
when John Johnstone should take his bride away.
Days passed on, days lengthened into weeks, the wedding-day drew near,
and the bridegroom came not.
All Betty's high courage came back, the frost melted away, and the
country was open again, and once more she rode to hounds. Her colour was
high, her lips feverishly scarlet, her eyes large and brilliant. She
rode with the best, and came home with the brush at her pommel.
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