Ralph Henry Barbour

“ He reached forward and covered the clasped hands with one of his.
“Beryl,” he said softly, “you told me once that you were going to call me the Happy Man, and I said I'd rather you made me that. Will you, dear? Are you going to make me a happy man, the very happiest man in the world?” ”

“ Once beyond that, they must needs unclasp their hands and walk apart, an exaction poignantly tragic. For a girl who had had but a few hours of sleep, whose hair was in wild disorder, whose feet and ankles were soaking wet, and whose attire was lacking in both detail and conventionality, Beryl looked strangely happy and very lovely, and, considering the fact that they were in fair view of the Prescotts' upper windows, displayed a fine disregard for consequences. ”

“ It really isn't late, Miss Vernon.”
She laughed, hesitated, and viewed the bench dubiously.
“It looks very damp,” she demurred.
“It is rather.” He brushed the leaves from it, slipped off his coat, and spread it along one end of the bench.
“Please, Mr. Shortland! You'll catch cold. Besides, this ulster is quite thick. Please put it on again.”
“If you wish.” He donned his coat, and Beryl seated herself at one end of the bench. Before them the shadows of the trees stretched far across the dewy grass. Beyond the shadows the links were bathed in the pale gold of early sunlight. ”

“ As, however, the course of true love never did run smooth, I had some difficulty in convincing her that she cared for me enough to marry me. In fact, it was not until I had been forced to set fire to a perfectly good clubhouse in order to secure an uninterrupted talk with her that she at last consented. ”