“Do you know,” he said, “when I heard you scream that night and saw the fire, my heart nearly leaped out of my mouth. I was afraid I could not reach you in time to keep the fire from your face and neck.”
“What if you hadn’t! I’m not a raving beauty now, and it would not have damaged my looks very much.”
“Don’t say that, Miss Darling! It would have been terrible! And you are pretty! I am sincere!”
She gasped for breath.
“Really—really, Mr. Merriwell! It’s impossible! Why, there is Mabel!”
“I know. She is charming, but to my eyes, you are far prettier. Don’t think I am trying taffy, for I give you my word, Miss Darling, that I am not.”
“Why, I—I thought you were dead stuck on Mabel!” cried the wondering girl.
“Not that. I like her, and she has treated me very nicely.”
“Yes, far better than I have; but that night, after you had saved me, I heard the doctor say, that if you did not save my life, at least you had prevented my frightful disfigurement. Oh, you will never know the sensation that came over me then! Such a sense of shame, for I thought how I had treated you. But—but I want to tell you something now, Mr. Merriwell. It is awfully hard for me to say, but I must say it. I did not treat you that way because I disliked you. No! no! no! It was for just the other reason. I liked you too well—there! I thought you did not care anything for me and was all taken up with Mabel, so I tried to get a dab at you every time I could. It was mean—I know it! I didn’t expect you to forgive me, for I am sure I did not deserve it. And then, after all the mean things I had done, you passed all those near me when I was in danger and saved me! I could have died from shame!”
She was sobbing now, although fighting back the tears. He did his best to soothe her, and succeeded very well.