“Yes, Nellie.”
“Just once—for to-night—just once—won’t you call me—that?”
Frank Merriwell started and turned pale, and, for the first time, he fully realized how much the blind girl cared for him.
“Oh, is it wrong for you to call me that—just once?” she asked. “Won’t you be true to Elsie just the same? If it is wrong, don’t do it, Frank. But I’ll never ask it again—I’ll never expect it. Only once, and I know Elsie would forgive you if she knew.”
Remarkable were the emotions which thrilled Frank’s heart, for he understood now what it all meant. Never again could he look on little Nell as a mere child, and he was sorry.
She knew he was hesitating, and she feared he would refuse. She turned away, and it was wonderful how the blood rushed to her face and neck.
Frank bent over her.
“Only once!” he said to himself. “Elsie would not mind.”
Then, with infinite tenderness, he murmured:
“Sweetheart!”