The hot blood had rushed to his face, and he was trembling again. He drew her toward him, and she felt his panting breath on her cheek, which had paled as he grew flushed.
“Don’t stop me, Elsie—please listen! You must listen! This love is filling my heart with fire! It is burning out my soul! Elsie, if you could love me in return! I would do anything for you, sweetheart! I would give you my life’s devotion! I would protect you from every storm and hardship! I would take you in my arms and bear you tenderly over all the rough places in the journey of life! I know I am not worthy of you, dear girl—I know it, but still I cannot give up the thought that I may win you! It is like giving up my very life! I will try to make myself worthy! I will do everything to bring myself nearer your level, which I know I can never reach!”
“Now, stop, Bart!” she exclaimed, with sudden firmness. “I will not hear you talk that way about yourself. Don’t try to make me out such a paragon of perfection, for I know I have my faults, just like any other girl, and I——”
He stopped her.
“You are not like other girls in any way,” he declared, with all the intense infatuation of youth. “You are wholly and entirely different. You are as far above them as——”
“Don’t, Bart!” she protested, her face crimson. “Truly you are mistaken!”
She was laughing and confused, but she looked prettier than ever before. He tried to draw her into his arms, but she would not permit it.
“I don’t care!” he declared, with that same intense earnestness. “To me you are different, and that is enough! To me you are everything! Elsie, answer me one question, answer me honestly: Are you still in love with Frank?”
She hesitated with bowed head, her laughter stopped now, the blushes fading from her face.
His heart seemed to stand quite still while he waited for her to answer, for he felt that his future happiness depended on the words her lips would speak.