"Of course, but to know you mine for always would be greater happiness."
"Oh, be content—a little longer. There's lots o' time—and I'm learning—I speak a—bit better, don't you think?"
"Is this your reason for delay, Diana?"
"Some of it. I want you to be—a little proud of me, if you can—if you ever grew ashamed of me—it would kill me, I think—"
"Sweet soul!" I cried, leaping to my feet to clasp her in eager arms.
"Why are you grown so humble?"
"It's love, I think, Peregrine—oh, mind the basin!" But I was not to be stayed and, sure enough, over went the great tin basin, scattering wet garments and soapy water broadcast.
"There!" sighed Diana tragically.
"What of it?" said I, and kissed her. "Why will you kiss me so seldom,
Diana?"
"I ought to have done the washing in the brook like I always do."
"Don't you like me to kiss you, Diana?"