"I have let her know that I
expect to inspire no romantic love, and do not pretend to be in love
with her. I come forward admiring, trusting, and preferring her to any
other woman; though I cannot come as a lover to her feet." He began to
talk again. Emily was a little startled to find him in a few minutes
alluding to his domestic discomforts, and his intention of standing for
the borough. He had now a little red box in his hand, and when she said,
"John, I wish you would not stand there," he came and sat nearly
opposite to her, and showed her what was in it--his father's diamond
ring. She remembered it, no doubt; he had just had the diamond reset.
Emily took out the ring, and laid it in her palm. "It looks small," she
said. "I should not have thought it would fit you, John."

"Will you let me try if it will fit you?" he answered; and, before she
had recovered from her surprise, he had put it on her finger.

There was a very awkward pause, and then she drew it off. "You can
hardly expect me," she said, and her hand trembled a little, "to accept
such a very costly present." It was not her reason for returning it, but
she knew not what to say.

"I would not ask it," he replied, "unless I could offer you another. I
desire to make you my wife. I beg you to accept my hand."

"Accept your hand! What, now? directly? today?" she exclaimed almost
piteously, and tears trembled on her eye-lashes.

"Yes," he answered, repeating her words with something like ardour.
"Now, directly, to-day. I am sorely in want of a wife, and would fain
take you home as soon as the bans would let me. Emily?"

"Why you have been taking all possible pains to let me know that you do
not love me in the least, and that, as far as you foresee, you do not
mean to love me," she answered, two great tears falling on his hand when
he tried to take hers. "John! how dare you!"

She was not naturally passionate, but startled now into this passionate
appeal, she snatched away her hand, rose in haste, and drew back from
him with flashing eyes and a heaving bosom; but all too soon the short
relief she had found in anger was quenched in tears that she did not try
to check. She stood and wept, and he, very pale and very much
discomfited, sat before her in his place.

"I beg your pardon," he presently said, not in the least aware of what
this really meant. "I beg--I entreat your pardon. I scarcely
thought--forgive my saying it--I scarcely thought, considering ou