“Why, not––not exactly,” said Doane. “I meant to tell you that, of course, but I also want to have a little talk with Laura. Can I see you alone, Laura, for a few minutes?”
“Oh, that’s it,” snorted Mallory, as he stamped back into the house.
“You have something to tell me you don’t want father to hear?” asked the girl in a worried voice.
“Laura, there’s something I must tell you right away,” said Doane nervously, leading her to the shadow of the far end of the porch. There he turned and faced her, taking her hands.
“Laura, you must have seen it for a long time. You could hardly help but see it. I love you, Laura––I love you with all my heart, and I want you to be my wife.”
The girl drew back in astonishment.
“But why do you have to tell me this so suddenly?” she asked, her color coming and going.
“Because I want you to marry me, Laura, to-night!” he said.
Again he reached for her hands. “Please, Laura,” he pleaded. “It means so much to me. Don’t you care for me, sweetheart? I’ve been led to think you did, and I intended to tell you soon, but all this trouble––this terrible trouble to-day––has nearly driven me mad. I’m afraid I’ll go mad, Laura, if I don’t have something else to think about. Oh, Laura, marry me and help me out of this big trouble.”