pered very softly, 'you know
what I am come to ask.'

'If you are come on purpose to ask anything, why do you delay so?' She
turned away very bravely, but I saw that her lips were trembling.

'I delay so long, because I fear; because my whole life hangs in balance
on a single word; because what I have near me now may never more be near
me after, though more than all the world, or than a thousand worlds,
to me.' As I spoke these words of passion in a low soft voice, Lorna
trembled more and more; but she made no answer, neither yet looked up at
me.

'I have loved you long and long,' I pursued, being reckless now, 'when
you were a little child, as a boy I worshipped you: then when I saw
you a comely girl, as a stripling I adored you: now that you are a
full-grown maiden all the rest I do, and more--I love you more than
tongue can tell, or heart can hold in silence. I have waited long and
long; and though I am so far below you I can wait no longer; but must
have my answer.'

'You have been very faithful, John,' she murmured to the fern and moss;
'I suppose I must reward you.'

'That will not do for me,' I said; 'I will not have reluctant liking,
nor assent for pity's sake; which only means endurance. I must have all
love, or none, I must have your heart of hearts; even as you have mine,
Lorna.'

While I spoke, she glanced up shyly through her fluttering lashes,
to prolong my doubt one moment, for her own delicious pride. Then she
opened wide upon me all the glorious depth and softness of her loving
eyes, and flung both arms around my neck, and answered with her heart on
mine,--

'Darling, you have won it all. I shall never be my own again. I am
yours, my own one, for ever and for ever.'

I am sure I know not what I did, or what I said thereafter, being
overcome with transport by her words and at her gaze. Only one thing I
remember, when she raised her bright lips to me, like a child, for me to
kiss, such a smile of sweet temptation met me through her flowing hair,
that I almost forgot my manners, giving her no time to breathe.

'That will do,' said Lorna gently, but violently blushing; 'for the
present that will do, John. And now remember one thing, dear. All the
kindness is to be on my side; and you are to be very distant, as behoves
to a young maiden; except when I invite you. But you may kiss my hand,
John; oh, yes, you may kiss my hand, you know. Ah to be sure! I had
forgotten; how very stupid of me!'

For