"He loves me!" she said; "he has told me that he loves me!"
"Well?"
"And I have referred him to you. That clause——"
"He already knows it." And then I told her, word for word, what had passed.
"He knows of that clause, and he still wishes to marry me! He loves me for myself! Loves me, knowing me to be a beggar! It is true, pure, disinterested affection!"
"Beyond all doubt it is. And if you could live upon true love——"
"Oh, but where that exists, and youth, and health, and strength, and education, may we not be well content to try to earn a living together? think of the happiness comprised in that word! I could give lessons;—I am sure that I could. I would teach music, and drawing, and dancing—anything for him! or we could keep a school here at Upton—anywhere with him!"
"And I am to tell him this?"
"Not the words!" replied she, blushing like a rose at her own earnestness; "not those words!"
Of course, it was not very long before M. le Comte made his appearance.