She nodded her head "Yes," and covered her face with her hands.
"And am I wrong in believing that I possess your love?" I asked.
She shook her head to indicate that I was not wrong, and the little gesture was as good as an oath to me. After her confession, she would not dare to resist me, nor did she, save to say pleadingly:—
"Please, Baron Ned, it cannot be."
Tears were trickling down her cheeks, and I could see that she was in great trouble.
"I do not ask you to come to me now," I said, "but you may take a long time, if you wish—a day, or two, or even three, if you insist. But Betty, I am not to be refused, and you may as well understand now and for all that you are to be my wife. But tell me, Betty, what is your reason for denying me at this time?"
She dried her eyes, sat erect, and answered in a voice full of tears: "Well, you are so far above me that the time might come when you would be ashamed of me."
"Nothing of the sort, Betty. Drop that argument at once. You know you do not mean it. You are not speaking the exact truth. There is no sweetness, no beauty, like yours."
"Do you really mean it, Baron Ned?" she answered, smiling up to me.
"Yes, yes, every word and a thousand more," I answered.