In vain she struggled. In vain she writhed and twisted. In vain she pushed him away and then covered her blushing face.
Love, fierce and eager, could not be thus opposed. All her pride, anger, resentment, shame, and intended coldness were as so many straws, for despite her struggles, he pulled her hands aside and kissed her again and again.
“My darling,” he exclaimed at last, “say you forgive me; say you love me; say it now!”
Then, as she drew away, he saw her eyes were brimming with tears.
“I won’t,” she said, “I hate–” but his lips cut the sentence in two, and it was never finished.
“I did mean to hate you,” she declared once more, covering her face, “but I–I can’t.”
“No, you can’t,” he asserted eagerly, “for I won’t let you. You promised to love me once, and now you’ve got to, for life.”
And she did.
When the outburst of emotion had subsided and they strolled homeward, Chip glanced shyly up at her lover.
“Why did you pounce on me so?” she queried; “why didn’t you ask me, first?”