Hearts That Survive Read Online Free PDF

Psalm 51. If David had not sinned, we would not have the words that have reached the world since they were written and will continue as long as there is life on earth. I daresay his words are sung in heaven."
    Sensing her uncertainty, he hastened to add, "Fortunately, I'm not a warrior king whom God has called to be an example to the world. I'm just a poor poet."
    "You're not poor, John. But I don't care if you don't have a cent."
    "If I hadn't a cent, you'd never have known me. But anyway, I'm poor compared with the other first-class passengers. I only have these accommodations because your father's company made the reservations."
    "But you don't care."
    He toyed with a spoon for a moment, then clasped his hands on his lap. "I care in the sense that my having had some success with my trains brought me to your father's attention. More importantly, to yours. And I want to be a success. Frankly, I'd rather be a success as a poet than a toy-train maker. My trains and I are considered minor compared with the first-class passengers, and with your father's real trains."
    "Considered," she said. "But real trains only take people from one destination to another. Your trains bring joy and happiness and dreams of going to all sorts of places. And my father is impressed with your designs."
    "Thank you. That's your opinion because you love me."
    "Yes, I do, John. When I am around you, it's like the rest of the world goes away. And that's fine with me."
    He leaned toward her. "Someone mentioned that our relationship might well be a passing fancy for you. I'm a different kind of person from what you're accustomed to."
    Seeing her sigh, turn her head, and tighten her lips, he knew she thought Craven would have been the one with that bit of wisdom. And she would be right. Craven made no secret of wanting Lydia for himself. In the meantime, he tolerated John, although trying to brainwash him into thinking he was not worthy or not mature enough for Lydia. John often thought so himself.
    Lydia was remarkable. She hadn't given in to Craven but had been determined to continue her education. She'd followed her heart about John instead of society's unwritten rule that she choose someone of equal background. Few had the wealth of Cyril Beaumont.
    But he'd lingered too long. What more could he say? He might quote Othello from Shakespeare's tragedy. When . . . you shall . . . speak of me . . . speak of one that lov'd not wisely but too well.
    Pushing his plate away from him, he reminded himself he must not quote others. He should adhere to the advice in Longfellow's poem "The Courtship of Miles Standish," that said, " Speak for yourself, John."
    First, he couldn't resist saying, "I do believe you are eating for two."
    Her mouth opened, her gaze fell upon the third roll she held in her hand. She covered her mouth with the other hand and laughed. Ah, it was good to hear that laughter. At least he was learning how to make her happy. Keep her pregnant and give her food.
    "I'm a pig this morning," she said.
    Good. The mood was lighter. Now was the time not just for words but for action, to show Lydia his love.

 
6
     
     
     
     
    O h."
    Lydia laid down her fork and placed her hand against her heart. John pushed away from the table and stood. Her ravenous appetite must have disgusted him. She started to question, but he said the strangest thing.
    "Don't move." He knelt on one knee in front of her and took her hands in his.
    "Lydia. Love of my life. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
    He reached into the pocket of his morning coat and brought out a small black box, which he opened to expose a diamond ring sparkling in a bed of lush blue velvet. "I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?"
    She stared and finally stuttered. "Where . . . when . . . did you get this?"
    "Last night. There's an American jeweler aboard. You know, Mr. Claude Deeman."
    Of course she knew. Every woman should have a Deeman jewel. "I couldn't ask for anything