confession of
such an impulse.

"How long had you ... wanted to do it?"

"Mind your own business. The idea! Don't you know better than that?"
Emmy asked. It made him chuckle delightedly to have such a retort from
her. And it stimulated his curiosity.

"I believe you're a bit fond of me," he said. "I don't see why. There's
nothing about me to write home about, I shouldn't think. But there it
is: love's a wonderful thing."

"Is it?" asked Emma, distantly. Why couldn't he say he loved her? Too
proud, was he? Or was he shy? He had only used the word "love" once, and
that was in this general sense--as though there _was_ such a thing. Emmy
was shy of the word, too; but not as shy as that. She was for a moment
anxious, because she wanted him to say the word, or some equivalent. If
it was not said, she was dependent upon his charity later, and would cry
sleeplessly at night for want of sureness of him.

"D'you love me?" she suddenly said. Alf whistled. He seemed for that
instant to be quite taken aback by her inquiry. "There's no harm in me
asking, I suppose." Into Emmy's voice there came a thread of roughness.

"No harm at all," Alf politely said. "Not at all." He continued to
hesitate.

"Well?" Emmy waited, still in his arms, her ears alert.

"We're engaged, aren't we?" Alf muttered shamefacedly. "Erum ... what
sort of ring would you like? I don't say you'll get it ... and it's too
late to go and choose one to-night."

Emmy flushed again: he felt her tremble.

"You _are_ in a hurry," she said, too much moved for her archness to
take effect.

"Yes, I am." Alf's quick answer was reassuring enough. Emmy's heart was
eased. She drew him nearer with her arms about his neck, and they kissed
again.

"I wish you'd say you love me," she whispered. "Mean such a lot to me."

"No!" cried Alf incredulously. "Really?"

"Do you?"

"I'll think about it. Do you--me?"

"Yes. I don't mind saying it if you will."

Alf gave a little whistle to himself, half under his breath. He looked
carefully to right and left, and up at the house-wall against which they
were standing. Nobody seemed to be in danger of making him feel an
abject fool by overhearing such a confession as he was invited to make;
and yet it was such a terrible matter. He was confronted with a
difficulty of difficulties. He looked at Emmy, and knew that she was
waiting, entreating him with her shining eyes.

"Er," said Alf, reluctantly and with misgiving. "Er ..