"I love you," he said, trembling.
"Sam," she said—and in her distress she put her hand on his shoulder—"you don't really care for me. I am so much older, and—there are other reasons. Oh, why did I come here!" she burst out. "You displease me very much when you talk this way!" She pushed her chair back, and would have risen but for his detaining hand upon her arm.
"Will you marry me?"
"No! of course I won't!"
"Why?"
"Because—" she stopped; then, breathlessly; "I only want to be let alone, I came to Old Chester to be alone. I didn't want to thrust myself on you.—any of you!"
"You never did," he said wonderingly. "You? Why, there never was anybody so reserved, so—shy, almost. That's one reason I love you, I guess," he said boyishly.
"You mustn't love me."
"Will you marry me?" he repeated. "Oh, I know; it is like asking an angel to come down out of heaven—"
"An angel!"