“She might have saved herself such anxiety. No one can care less for such things than I do.”
“And yet I think I have heard you boast of the cook of your club.” And then again there was silence for a minute or two.
“Patty,” said he, stopping again in the path; “answer my question. I have a right to demand an answer. Do you love me?”
“And what if I do? What if I have been so silly as to allow your perfections to be too many for my weak heart? What then, Captain Broughton?”
“It cannot be that you love me, or you would not joke now.”
“Perhaps not, indeed,” she said. It seemed as though she were resolved not to yield an inch in her own humour. And then again they walked on.
“Patty,” he said once more, “I shall get an answer from you to-night,—this evening; now, during this walk, or I shall return to-morrow, and never revisit this spot again.”
“Oh, Captain Broughton, how should we ever manage to live without you?”
“Very well,” he said; “up to the end of this walk I can bear it all;—and one word spoken then will mend it all.”
During the whole of this time she felt that she was ill-using him. She knew that she loved him with all her heart; that it would nearly kill her to part with him; that she had heard his renewed offer with an ecstacy of joy. She acknowledged to herself that he was giving proof of his devotion as strong as any which a girl could receive from her lover. And yet she could hardly bring herself to say the word he longed to hear. That word once said, and then she knew that she must succumb to her love for ever! That word once said, and there would be nothing for her but to spoil him with her idolatry! That word once said, and she must continue to repeat it into his ears, till perhaps he might be tired of hearing it! And now he had threatened her, and how could she speak after that? She certainly would not speak it unless he asked her again without such threat. And so they walked on in silence.