She paused, warned by the treacherous quiver in her voice. He stood quite still, and after a moment opened his arms.
"My sweetheart, will you try me? Will you grant me the privilege of convincing you?"
She shook her head. Something in his eyes dazzled her, and an alarming pallor overspread her face, blanching her lips.
"If you have found happiness in forgetting and excluding me entirely from your life and your future, I cannot complain that you followed my counsel; but I will accept that positive assurance only from your own truthful lips. Your peace of mind is more to me than my own. Have you shut me out of your heart forever?"
She tried to move aside, to pass him, but he barred her escape with an outstretched arm, and she shrank back.
"If you care no more for me now than when I left you, I have no alternative but to live alone; and I will never again intrude, never annoy you by the sight of my face. I will not accept compassion, or friendly sympathy. All—or none. I want love—love that brings a pure woman gladly to her husband's breast. Once you took some solemn vows for me, invoking the presence of the Lord you worship. Now, trusting you implicitly, knowing you will not deceive me, I must ask you to give me one final pledge. If you cannot love me as I wish—if your heart, your whole heart will never belong to me—then, calling God to witness the truth of your words, look me straight in the eyes and tell me so."
She trembled, shut her eyes, and, as a rich red rushed into her white cheeks, she covered her face with her hands.
A gust of wind shook the mimosa, and on her bowed head drifted the pink silk filaments, powdering her brown coil and puffs.
Very gently Mr. Herriott took the trembling little hands, kissed the palms, and, drawing her slowly, tenderly toward him, lifted her arms to his neck, holding them there.
With a low, broken cry she surrendered.