“Naturally, I feel great delicacy in what I am about to say,” said Dorothy; “but since you have told me that you love me, it does not seem so hard, although you do not know who or what I am—but, to be candid and frank with you, dear Paul, after you have gotten me away—why, you must marry me!”
Paul snatched her up in his arms.
“My darling!” he said, “you are making me the proudest man on earth!”
“Do not speak too soon,” said Dorothy, releasing herself from his grasp. “Remember I have told you frankly that you do not know me. Perhaps I am driving a hard bargain with you!”
For a moment Paul became serious.
“Tell me, Dorothy,” he asked, in an altered tone, “have you, or Ah Ben, or any member of your mysterious household or family, any crimes to answer for? Is there any good reason why I, as an honest man, should object to taking you for my wife?”
She turned scarlet as she answered:
“Never! There is no such reason. There is nothing dishonorable, I swear to you—nothing which could implicate you in any way with wrong-doing. No, Paul; my secret is different from that. You could never guess it, nor could I ever compromise you with crime.”
Her manner was sincere, and carried conviction to the hearer of the truth of what she said.
“It is time we were going to the house,” she added, rising, with the parrot still upon her shoulder; and side by side they retraced their steps along the woodland way homeward.