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“You care that much for me, Valancy?” said Barney incredulously,
looking away from the star and into her eyes—her strange, mysterious
eyes.
“I care—that much,” said Valancy in a low voice. She was trembling. He
had called her by her name for the first time. It was sweeter than
another man’s caress could have been just to hear him say her name like
that.
“If we are going to get married,” said Barney, speaking suddenly in a
casual, matter-of-fact voice, “some things must be understood.”
“Everything must be understood,” said Valancy.
“I have things I want to hide,” said Barney coolly. “You are not to ask
me about them.”
“I won’t,” said Valancy.
“You must never ask to see my mail.”
“Never.”
“And we are never to pretend anything to each other.”
“We won’t,” said Valancy. “You won’t even have to pretend you like me.
If you marry me I know you’re only doing it out of pity.”
“And we’ll never tell a lie to each other about anything—a big lie or a
petty lie.”
“Especially a petty lie,” agreed Valancy.
“And you’ll have to live back on my island. I won’t live anywhere
else.”
“That’s partly why I want to marry you,” said Valancy.
Barney peered at her.
“I believe you mean it. Well—let’s get married, then.”
“Thank you,” said Valancy, with a sudden return of primness. She would
have been much less embarrassed if he had refused her.
“I suppose I haven’t any right to make conditions. But I’m going to
make one. You are never to refer to my heart or my liability to sudden
death. You are never to urge me to be careful. You are to
forget—absolutely forget—that I’m not perfectly healthy. I have written
a letter to my mother—here it is—you are to keep it. I have explained
everything in it. If I drop dead suddenly—as I likely will do——”
“It will exonerate me in the eyes of your kindred from the suspicion of
having poisoned you,” said Barney with a grin.
“Exactly.” Valancy laughed gaily. “Dear me, I’m glad this is over. It
has been—a bit of an ordeal. You see, I’m not in the habit of going
about asking men to marry me. It is so nice of you not to refuse me—or
offer to be a brother!”
“I’ll go to the Port tomorrow and get a license. We can be married
tomorrow evening. Dr. Stalling, I suppose?”
“Heavens, no.” Valancy shuddered. “Besides, he wouldn’t do it. He’d
shake his forefinger at me and I’d jilt you at the altar. No, I want my
old Mr. Towers to marry me.”
“Will you marry me as I stand?” demanded Barney. A passing car, full of
tourists, honked loudly—it seemed derisively. Valancy looked at him.
Blue homespun shirt, nondescript hat, muddy overalls. Unshaved!
“Yes,” she said.
Barney put his hands over the gate and took her little, cold ones
gently in his.
“Valancy,” he said, trying to speak lightly, “of course I’m not in love
with you—never thought of such a thing as being in love. But, do you
know, I’ve always thought you were a bit of a dear.”
CHAPTER XXVI
The next day passed for Valancy like a dream. She could not make
herself or anything she did seem real. She saw nothing of Barney,
though she expected he must go rattling past on his way to the Port for
a license.
Perhaps he had changed his mind.
But at dusk the lights of Lady Jane suddenly swooped over the crest of
the wooded hill beyond the lane. Valancy was waiting at the gate for
her bridegroom. She wore her green dress and her green hat because she
had nothing else to wear. She did not look or feel at all
bride-like—she really looked like a wild elf strayed out of the
greenwood. But that did not matter. Nothing at all mattered except that
Barney was coming for her.