Patty smiled. "It isn't only that, Ken. Don't think that I care more for foolish, witty speeches than I do for a true, noble heart, like yours."
"DON'T say 'true, noble heart'! It sounds as if you didn't care two cents for me! But my heart, Patty, such as it is, is all yours, and has been ever since Vernondale days. Have you forgotten those?"
"No, indeed, and that's just what I say, Ken, we've been friends from the first,—and we're friends now."
"But the time has come, Patty, to be more than friends. I have known it a long time. And I want you to know it too, dear. Patty,—can't you?"
And then, all of a sudden, Patty KNEW she couldn't. Like a flash, she saw Kenneth just as he was, a strong, brave, true man, for whom she felt a warm friendship, but whom she knew she never could love. She might some time perhaps, in days to come, love somebody, but it would never, never be Kenneth Harper.
The thought made her sad, not for herself, but she hated to give pain to this kind, honest man. She realised the depth of his love for her, and it broke her heart that she could not return it.
"Kenneth," she began, "I can't love you the way you want me to,—I just can't. And, anyway, I'm too young to think about these things."
"No, you're not, Patty. You're almost twenty and I'm twenty-four. That isn't too young,—it's just exactly the right age for lovers. It isn't too young, Patty,—if you love me."
"But I don't, Ken. I'm sorry,—but I don't."
"But you will. Oh, Patty, say you will try to!"