So I arose, but stood a while to look into her eyes that met mine with such sweet frankness.
"And you still wish to learn all those graces and refinements that make what is called a lady, my Diana?"
"Yes," she answered, a little breathlessly. "Yes—oh, more than ever—more than anything else in life—except you—"
"Then—God helping, you shall!" said I, between shut teeth. And so we went on together.
"But, Peregrine," she questioned a little wistfully, "dear Peregrine, why is your face so stern and why must you sigh still?"
"Because to be unselfish is sometimes—an agony, Diana."
"Dear heart—what do you mean?"
"Only I know now that I do most truly love you."