“I can’t bear to think of it, I can’t bear to think of it!” she cried. “Oh! Ben, Ben! I can’t bear it!”
He made a step forward then and caught her in his arms. How could he resist the upturned face and the sweet blue eyes brimming with tears. Puritan she might be, the old Covenanter blood might be strong as ever, but she loved him—there was little doubt of that, and he clasped her close in his arms and covered her face with kisses.
“What does it matter, dear, what does it matter? Let the future take care of itself.”
She tried to wrench herself from his embrace then.
“No, no, it is for eternity. I can’t, I can’t.”
“Susy,” he caught both her hands in his, “do you love me?”
“You know I do.”
“Better than any one in the world?”
“Yes.” She whispered it under her breath, as if afraid of her own temerity.
“Then listen. You shall do as you like with me. I ‘ll give up the sea, darling. I ‘ll take up a selection here, you shall teach me your creed and I ‘ll do my best to believe. There, my little girl, will that satisfy you? Who knows, in time I may become as respectable a psalm-singer as that holy swab, Clement Scott, your father’s so fond of quoting. The beggar’s got a tenderness for you, hasn’t he, Susy? Why the first week I was here I was wild with jealousy of the canting brute!”