He had reached the threshold. "I will come again."
But she poised the paper in her hand and looked at him reflectively. "I don't think you'd better go," she said, and then added positively, "No, I can't have you go. Please sit down in that chair."
Obeying the nod of her determined little head, he dragged himself from the door, sat down, and watched her miserably while she studied his letter. She read it once, and sat with pursed lips; she read it again, and knit her brows; she read it a third time and looked at him thoughtfully. Then she read parts of it aloud.
"I apprehend much unhappiness to you in your proposed occupation .... Admirable qualities—tender nature.... Am emboldened to say what otherwise I might not ... if you will give yourself into my care, I will promise you that so far as it is possible for a man to avert them, you will never know trouble or need——"
She broke off, and looked at him. "This is a proposal of marriage, Mr. Pease?"
He shivered. "I meant it so."
She put the letter in her lap with a regretful sigh. "I thought that when a man asked a girl to marry him he always said something about—his feelings for her."
"But respect, admiration—" he was beginning eagerly.
"Oh," she interrupted, "those go without saying. And I understand," she glanced at the letter, "that you write this only because you wish to relieve me of work. It is very good of you to sacrifice yourself."
"It is no sacrifice!" he cried.