I stopped, I was losing my head in the craze of her beauty.
"You would what?" she asked, putting her hand on mine, and setting me on fire with a look which I thought and hoped I could read.
I thrust away the almost maddening temptation to say what was in my heart and thoughts.
"I would remember that there is yet much to do," I said stolidly, dropping my eyes.
She snatched her hand away, and turned away from me with a toss of the head.
"I wish I had never gone on with this!" she exclaimed impetuously. "It was not my wish. I should not if you had not persuaded me——No, I don't mean that at all. Forgive me, cousin, I am so thoughtless!" she cried, changing again quickly. "I know all you have done for me, and I am not ungrateful. Forgive me." She came again and put her hands back into mine. "I am such a poor Queen even for a sham one."
This was even more trying than before, and I had to fight hard to hold myself in hand. But I succeeded.
"Don't speak of forgiveness; there is nothing to forgive. What lies before us to-night is enough to make any one anxious. I can understand you."
"Can you?" she answered, peering with shining, eloquent eyes into mine. "No, no, no, a hundred times no. But I am glad you like my dress and—I will try to bear myself to-night so as to be worthy of—of all you have dared for me."
"God grant we may all come safely through it, and that to-night may see you Queen indeed," I replied fervently; and I was putting my lips to her hand as a sign of my homage, though I meant more, when she drew her hand hastily away.