"Don't go away, Miss Mary! Stay with us—with me—as long as you can!"
She turned her head and looked at him, smiling.
"Why, what do you mean? I'm not going away anywhere—who told you that I was?"
"No one,"—and Angus drew a little nearer to her—"But just now you seemed so much a part of the sea and the sky, leaning forward and giving yourself entirely over to the glory of the moment, that I felt as if you might float away from me altogether." Here he paused—then added in a lower tone—"And I could not bear to lose you!"
She was silent. But her face grew pale, and her lips quivered. He saw the tremor pass over her, and inwardly rejoiced,—his own nerves thrilling as he realised that, after all, if—if she loved him, he was the master of her fate.
"We've been such good friends," he went on, dallying with his own desire to know the best or worst—"Haven't we?"
"Indeed, yes!" she answered, somewhat faintly. "And I hope we always will be."
"I hope so, too!" he answered in quite a matter-of-fact way. "You see I'm rather a clumsy chap with women——"
She smiled a little.
"Are you?"