"Mr. Noel, you have broken my heart."
He waited to steady his voice.
"My proud darling, there seemed no other way. When it heals, please God, I shall have my throne inside."
With her face hidden on his shoulder, he held her close, his cheek against her hair, and each knew how fiercely the heart of the other throbbed. After some moments, he tightened the arm clasping her waist, and his deep, passionately tender tone caressed like a velvet glove.
"I don't know how many years I have longed for the touch of your lips. Even as a child you never allowed me to kiss you; and, except your father, I am sure no man ever has. My sweetheart, if indeed you are learning to love me, can you, will you give me now what I want—my own wife's pure lips?"
She crimsoned to the tips of her small ears, and clung to him, not daring to meet his eyes.
"One memorable night, when two of my dogs froze at my feet, I sat under the lee of my sledge, waiting for a gale of sleet to howl itself to rest. I fell asleep and had a heavenly dream, in which you came and kissed me."
"Mr. Herriott, you cannot love me now as you did before that horrible journey on the cars when your words seemed to scorch—brand me. I am afraid—I am afraid——"
He felt her tremble.
"My darling, I love you infinitely more. You were never so sacred, so dear as to-day. Of what can you feel afraid now? In my dream you were more generous. I can take, but I prefer to receive the blessed seal I hope you will give me, as holy assurance that you are entirely my own."