Nicholas paused and Lily saw that he, also, was shaking a little.
At the same moment he dropped on to one knee beside her and laid his hand over hers.
"Lily dear," said Nicholas Aubray, speaking with great simplicity, "you know that I'm very much in love with you. Could you care for me enough to be my wife?"
Instead of the exultation of mind she had expected to experience on hearing this, her first proposal, Lily felt an odd inclination to tears. She looked down at Nicholas.
"Do you really want me to?" she asked him falteringly, and like a child.
A sudden laugh flickered in his gaze as it met hers.
"You dear child! Of course I do. Do you think I don't mean it? Why, Lily, I've thought of nothing else since those very first days in Italy."
He looked at her wistfully.
"Do I seem to you too old, my dear? I do love you so much. I think I could make you very happy."
"But you—could I ever—you must think of your happiness too——" said Lily incoherently. "Oh, please, will you let me think it over for a little while and write to you?"