“But I don’t, Philip.” And Patty’s voice carried a hint of tears.
“But you will, dear; you must, because I love you so. Patty, I have always loved you, I think, since I first saw you on the stairs at Aunty Van’s that evening. Do you remember?”
“Yes, I remember; but please, Philip, let me go now, and don’t talk to me this way. I don’t want you to!”
“You’re frightened, Patty, that’s all; and perhaps I ought not to have spoken just now; but you looked so sweet, in the moonlight, with that wonderful hair of yours curling about your shoulders, that I just couldn’t help it.”
“I’ll forgive you, Philip, if you’ll forget this whole occurrence.”
“Forget it? Why, Patty, what do you mean? I never forget it for a single moment! I was sitting there to-night, dreaming of you. I wasn’t asleep, you know, I was just thinking about you, and wondering how soon I might tell you my thoughts. You’re so young, dear,—I’m half a dozen years older than you are,—but I want you, my little Patty. Mayn’t I hope?”
“You’re quite right, Philip. I am too young to think of such things. So cut it out for a couple of years, and then I’ll see about it!”
“Patty, you rogue, how can you speak like that? Don’t you love me a least little bit?”
“Not a teenty weenty speck! And if you don’t give me something to eat, I won’t even like you.”
“Well, here’s a bargain, then,—if I find something nice for you to eat, will you like me a whole lot?”