"Miss Page," he said in a low voice, "you must know what I want to say and—and I've come all the way from Maine to say it, and can you—is there any hope for me in your feelings? Is there just a little?"
He paused, but no answer came, only her head sank a trifle lower and now even the tip of her chin was invisible beneath the hat. It may be the movement emboldened him, for in an instant he was beside her on the ground and had one hand a prisoner.
"Tell me, Alice," he pleaded, "is there any chance for me? Say just one word—only one! Say 'yes'!"
The prisoned hand was at his lips now, and then she raised her face and oh, divine sight! those blue eyes were filled with tears!
One instant flash of heaven only, and then a change came. Almost had she yielded, but not quite, for now she arose quickly and turning away said half petulantly, "Oh, please don't speak of that now and spoil our visit. Let us go back to the mill."
But still he held the little hand, and as she tried to draw it away he said pitifully: "Do you mean it, Alice? Is it no? Oh, don't let me go away without one word of hope!"
Then she raised her one free arm, and resting it against a nearby tree pressed her face upon it and almost whispered, "Oh, don't ask me now! I can't say 'yes' and I can't say 'no'!"
"I shall believe that your heart says 'yes,'" he responded quickly, slipping one arm around her waist, "and until you do say 'no' I shall keep on loving you just the same."
But he had not won her yet, for she drew herself away, and turning a piteous face toward him exclaimed, "Don't, please, say another word now, or I shall hate myself as long as I live if you do!"
For one moment he stood dumfounded, and then it all dawned upon him. "Forgive me, sweet Alice," he said softly, "for speaking too soon. I believe I know why you feel as you do, and I shall go away hoping that in time you will come to know my mother better. And since you have said that you can't say 'no,' I shall anticipate that some time it will be 'yes.' Now we will go and gather lilies."