"Too late for what?"
"For the other part. You'd have been gone. But Fate's always kind to me. It made me come just in time."
"Tell me, then—about that other part. Do you want my advice?"
"Not exactly advice."
She looked at him across the little table, through the twilight. A sudden fire leaped up in his eyes, which usually looked coldly at life as if he had resigned himself to let its best things pass him by.
"Peter! You don't mean—you can't mean——"
"Do you want me to mean it?—Do you want me——"
"Want you? I've wanted nothing else since before you were out of short frocks, but——"
"Then why didn't you tell me so before I put them on? I was—oh, Jim, I was dying to hear it. I was afraid you didn't care in that way, that you thought me a silly child always. That's why I went back to stay in the convent, to try and find peace, and forget. But when I heard about Mary and her love, I couldn't bear it there any longer. I hoped that perhaps, after all—and when I came to-day and you looked at me, I knew for certain. I felt so brave, and I made up my mind to propose, for I was sure you wouldn't. It's leap year, anyhow."
They were standing now, and Jim had her in his arms.