Two weeks went by, and then one lovely July day Jack came again, and sitting with her on the bench in the garden where her father once sat and made love to Daisy, he told her first of his home with its wide-spreading pastures, its lovely views, its terraces and banks of flowers, and of Irish Flossie, who cried so hard because she must give up this home and go back to her old house by the wild Irish sea, with only a cross grandmother for company.
"And so, Bessie," he said, "I have come to ask you to be my wife, and make both Flossie and myself the happiest people in England. It is too soon after your father's death to speak of love and marriage, perhaps; but under the circumstances I trust you will forgive me, and believe it is no hasty step with me. I think I have loved you since the day I first saw you in the park and looked into your bright face, the fairest and truest I ever saw. Flossie is beautiful and sweet and good, and makes one think of a playful kitten, which you wish to capture and caress awhile and then release before you get a spit and scratch; but you, Bessie, are my ideal of a woman, and I could make you so happy. Think what it would be to have no care or thought for the morrow, to do nothing but rest, and you need it so much. You are so tired and worn, and up there among the hills you would grow strong, and I would surround you with every comfort and make you a very queen. Will you come, Bessie? Will you be my wife? and when I ask you to share my home I do not mean to exclude your mother. She shall be welcome there for your sake, and we will try to make her so happy that she will stay with us, or live here if she chooses, and give up her wandering life. Dear Bessie, answer me. Can you not like me a little?"
As he talked Bessie had covered her face with her hands, and he could see the great tears dropping through her fingers.
"Don't cry, darling," he said, winding his arm around her and trying to draw her to him. "Don't cry, but answer me; don't you like me a little?"
"Yes, a great deal, but not that way. I think you one of the noblest, best of men, and always have thought so since I first knew you, and you were so kind to father and me; but I cannot be your wife."