home. Wherever I went your face haunted me. I planned to
go away, to travel, to break myself loose; but it was no use, I could
not go. I dreaded to see you, but I dreaded more to go away. I hung
about the places you might pass. That dress with the flounces! I could
see the blue of it coming toward me through the branches. That night
you were ill! All the colour went out of your cheeks. I would have
given my life--my life! I have never loved before. I did not know what
love meant, but you have taught me. You have waked me from sleep. I'm
not good enough--a surly brute! Couldn't expect any girl to care; but
for seven years--twice seven years--I'd serve, I'd wait. Oh, my
beautiful, my beautiful--if you could see yourself! How can I stay
here, and let you go? Marry me! Marry me! This week, to-morrow--what
are conventions to us? I'll be good to you. All the love of my life is
waiting--I've never squandered it away. It has been stored up in my
heart for you."

I held up my hand, imploring him to stop.

"Oh, Mr Maplestone, don't! It's all a mistake. It must be! How can
you care? You know so little of me; we have met so seldom. How can you
possibly know that you would like me as a wife?"

He gave a quick, excited laugh.

"It's all true what those poet fellows write about love! I used to
laugh and call it nonsense; but when it comes to one's own turn, it's
the truest thing in the whole world! How do I know? I can't tell you,
Evelyn; but I _do_ know. It's just the one certain fact in life. I
want you! I'm going to have you!"

He stretched out his arms as if to seize me then and there, and I shrank
back, looking, I suppose, as I felt, frightened to death, for instantly
his manner changed, his arms dropped to his side, and he cried in the
gentlest, softest of tones:--

"Don't be frightened of me! Don't be frightened! Forgive me if I seem
rough. Rough to _you_! Oh, my sweet, give me a chance to show what I
could be! You have done enough caring for other people; now let me take
care of you! Be my wife, _Evelyn_!"

It was all too painful and miserable, and--yes, too beautiful to put
into words. I cried, and said, No! no! I was sorry, but I didn't love
him; I had never thought. There was no one else--oh, no; but it was
hopeless all the same. I could never--never--Oh, indeed, I was not
worth being miserable about. He must forget me. On Wednesday I was
going away. He would find when