Miss Darkwell here looked closer at her work, and drew two parallel lines connecting the stems of her semiquavers very nicely.
CHAPTER LX.
THE MOMENTOUS QUESTION
“I—I really would be so very much obliged if you would,” resumed Trevor. “Do now, pray—tell me anyone you like particularly!”
“I like all flowers so well,” said Miss Violet, compelled to speak, “that I could hardly choose a favourite—at least, without thinking a great deal; and I should feel then as if I had slighted the rest.”
“And awfully jealous I’m sure they’d be—I should—I know I should, indeed—I should, indeed. If I—if you—if I were a flower—I mean, the—the ugliest flower in the garden, by Jove, and that you preferred—a—a anything—I—I think I’d almost wither away—I—I swear to you I do—I’d tear my leaves out—I would, indeed—and—and—I’m in earnest, I assure you—I am indeed, Miss Darkwell—I’m—I’m awfully in love with you—I’m—I’m—I’ve been waiting this long time to tell you. I wrote to your father for leave to speak to you—and poor Miss Perfect also—I—she was very kind; and I’ve come to—to say—that—that I hope you can like me enough—that if a life of the greatest devotion to your happiness—and—and the greatest devotion to your happiness,”—he was trying here a bit of the speech he had prepared, but it would not come back, and so he shook himself free of it, and went on: “I’ll—I’ll try always—to make you happy—I will, indeed—and you shall do just as you please—and there’s no one—I don’t care what her birth or rank, I should be prouder to see in the—the—as—as mistress of Revington than you; and I—I hope—I—I hope very much you can like me enough to give me some encouragement to—to—hope.”
And Miss Darkwell answered very low: