I was
sitting on a stone a little lower than she. I leaned forward and
placed my arm on the rock and round her--just near enough to keep her
there, you know. Then I spoke: "I want to beg your pardon, Miss
Blanche. You are offended, but I did not mean to annoy you: I esteem
you too highly for that."
"I am not at all offended, not at all," she said heartily, at the same
time trying to rise, but as I was leaning on her dress she could not.
"I must beg you to move: I am going home," she added, looking round:
then seeing where my arm was, her tone became slightly angry: "Will
you allow me to rise?"
"Not until you listen to me. Do not be displeased when I tell you the
truth. I was jesting, or at least did not think what I was asking, a
moment ago, but now I am in real earnest. I want you to marry
me--truly I do. I love you, and am willing to do everything you can
desire. See, I will kneel if you like devotion;" and I fell on my
knees before her, catching her little white hands and kissing them.
"Won't you love me?" I felt as I looked into her sweet face that I
could do anything in the world for her.
"A little less devotion and more respect would suit me better, Mr.
Highrank. Will you stop this farce and release my dress? I shall
certainly be offended if you do not rise instantly."
"I will obey you if you will give me one kind word.
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