'With all my heart, Jessie; with all my soul!'
She trembled a little at the passion of my words.
'Tell me,' she said, averting her head, 'what would you do for me?'
I answered that there was no sacrifice that I would not willingly, cheerfully make for her sake; that I thought of none but her, that I loved none but her; that if all the world were on one side, and she alone on the other, I would fly to her, and deem myself blessed to live only for her. This, and much more that has been said a myriad times before, and will be said a myriad times again, I said passionately and fervently. She listened in silence, and then, after a pause, told me she believed I had spoken the true feelings of my heart, and that she was sure I had meant every word I had uttered. And then she pinned Gus West's flower to the bosom of her dress, and asked me if it did not look well there. Miserably, I answered Yes, and felt as though all the brightness were dying out of the world.
'But you have something else to say to me,' Jessie presently remarked; 'what you have already said is very pleasant to me. Now for the unpleasant thing.'
The conversation with my mother, which in the heat of my declaration had slipped out of my mind, now recurred to me, and I told Jessie that my mother was very anxious about her.
'In what way?' she asked.
'Where do you go to every day, Jessie? Mother tells me that you go out regularly at eleven o'clock every morning, and that you do not return until four in the afternoon, and that you don't spend that time at the Wests'.'
'Has she been watching me?'
'No, Jessie.'