“Do you know that I seem to have known you a long while, although we never spoke to each other till yesterday? Yet it is, after all, only two weeks since I first saw you. Since that day you have never been out of my thoughts.”
His beautiful dark eyes seemed to hold her violet ones in a fascinated gaze. She could not remove them, though she felt the rosy blushes bathing cheek and brow. Their glances mingled caressingly, and, taking her unresisting hand in his, he continued, in low, thrilling accents:
“Forgive me if I seem rash and forward, taking advantage of your gentleness; but, Daisie Bell, I love you with the passion of my life, though it may be madness to avow it, though it may meet your scorn. But the softness of your gaze inspires me with some little hope that you are not indifferent to my love, that I may win you—by long devotion—to be my bride.”
How pale her cheek grew—pale as yesterday, when she lay unconscious on his breast after that perilous accident! What a startled look came into her violet eyes!
CHAPTER IV.
FALSE.
Dallas Bain was startled by the young girl’s emotion, and his own cheek paled with sorrow as he cried hoarsely:
“You are angry with me for my presumption? I was too hasty, but my love must be my excuse. Will you forgive me?”
Daisie put out the little hand he had dropped in his alarm, and as he clasped it again he felt the soft pressure of fingers twining about his own as she whispered, in a choked voice:
“You startled me, but—but—I am not angry. For how could I be, when—when——”
She stopped, tears rushing to her eyes.