"Marjorie," he said, "I don't ask you to love me yet. All I ask is that you shouldn't decide not to love me."
Marjorie became aware of Theodore, hotly followed by Daffy, in the churchyard below. "I know he's up there," Theodore was manifestly saying.
Marjorie faced her lover gravely.
"Mr. Magnet," she said, "I will certainly promise you that."
"I would rather be your servant, rather live for your happiness, than do anything else in all the world," said Mr. Magnet. "If you would trust your life to me, if you would deign—." He paused to recover his thread. "If you would deign to let me make life what it should be for you, take every care from your shoulders, face every responsibility——"
Marjorie felt she had to hurry. She could almost feel the feet of Theodore coming up that tower.
"Mr. Magnet," she said, "you don't understand. You don't realize what I am. You don't know how unworthy I am—what a mere ignorant child——"
"Let me be judge of that!" cried Mr. Magnet.
They paused almost like two actors who listen for the prompter. It was only too obvious that both were aware of a little medley of imperfectly subdued noises below. Theodore had got to the ladder that made the last part of the ascent, and there Daffy had collared him. "My birthday," said Theodore. "Come down! You shan't go up there!" said Daffy. "You mustn't, Theodore!" "Why not?" There was something like a scuffle, and whispers. Then it would seem Theodore went—reluctantly and with protests. But the conflict receded.
"Marjorie!" said Mr. Magnet, as though there had been no pause, "if you would consent only to make an experiment, if you would try to love me. Suppose you tried an engagement. I do not care how long I waited...."