He loved her! She had said it to herself a thousand times all through

the long afternoon, the dragging evening. He loved her. It was so

strange, so incredible. They had only met three or four times; they had

said so little to each other. Why, she could remember almost every

word. He loved her, had knelt to her, he had told her so in passionate

words, with looks which made her heart tremble, her breath come fast as

she recalled them. That is, he wanted her to be his wife, to _give

herself_ to him, to be with him always, never to leave him.

The strangeness, the suddenness of the thing overwhelmed her so that

she could not think of it calmly. He had asked her to think of it, to

decide, to give him an answer. Why could she not? She had always,

hitherto, known her own mind. If anyone had asked her a question about

the estate, about the farm, she had known what to answer, important as

the question might have been. But now she seemed as if her mind were

paralyzed, as if she could not decide. Was it because she had never

thought of love; because she had never dreamt that anyone would love

her so much as to want to have her by his side for all his life?

As she looked through the window at the moonlight on the lawn, she

thought of him; called up the vision of his tall, graceful figure and

handsome face--yes; he was handsome, she knew. But she had scarcely

given a thought to his face; and only felt that it was good to have him

near her, to hear him talk in his deep voice, broken sometimes by the

short laugh which sounded almost boyish. It had been good to have him

near her--But then, she had been so lonely, had seen so few

men--scarcely any at all--Suppose when she met him next she said "No,"

told him that she could not love him, and he went away, leaving her

forever; would she be sorry?

She turned away from the window suddenly, nearly stumbling over Donald,

who was lying at her feet, his nose on his paws, his great eyes fixed

sadly and speculatively on her face, and caught up the book. But _his_

face came between her and the page, and she put the book down and went

into the hall.

Her father was in the library, there was no sound in the house to drown

the voice, the passionately pleading voice which rang in her ears.

"I must go out," she said, "I shall be able to think in the air, shall

be able to decide."




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