Gervase laughed softly.
“You have more sense now than any girl I know; but don’t be frightened, dear, I am not asking for my answer yet. You must have time, but I wanted you to know from the beginning what my feelings were. As you grow older and go into society, and meet other men, I want you to remember that there is one man who has already given his heart to your keeping, and is waiting in the hope that yours may be given to him in return. You are not bound-to me in any way. If you meet some one whom you can care for more than for me, I will wish you God-speed; but until that day comes I will wait in hope. I will not trouble you by referring to the subject again at present; for a year to come I will promise not to allude to it, but by that time you will be twenty, and will have had twelve whole months to think me over. You will not forbid me to speak to you again next July, Nan?”
“N–no!” sighed Nan dubiously, “I suppose not. You are very kind, but I am—frightened. Suppose I said ‘Yes,’ and then changed my mind like Lilias! That would be dreadful, yet how can one be sure? I like you very much, better than any other man, but still—”
“You must never say ‘Yes’ unless you have no doubt in your heart. No amount of liking will do. If the day ever comes when you feel that your whole heart goes out to me, as mine does to you, when you would choose poverty with me rather than riches with another man, then come to me, darling, but never till then. You and I are not the sort to be satisfied with a half-and-half happiness, and we will not risk failure. I want to make your life beautiful, not to wreck it!”
The tears rose slowly in Nan’s eyes, and her lips trembled.
“You are very good to me; but I feel as if I must be a hypocrite to have deceived you so. I’m not worth it. I’m not, indeed. If you only knew what a wretch I am, you couldn’t think of me any more. There are such lots of nice girls. If you would only choose somebody proper and sensible and accomplished and clever—”
“Oh, Nan, I don’t want her. Don’t force her on me, please. I’ve met her such scores and scores of times, and she bored me so unutterably. I want just you, and no one else; but don’t trouble your head about me for another year. Live your own bright life. I would not for the world shorten your girlhood or make you old before your time. It won’t be a very depressing thought, dear, will it, that somewhere a hundred miles away a man is loving you, and trying to live a better life because of his love?”
Nan could not answer, could only shake her head in a mute dissent. No; it was far from depressing—it was beautiful, inspiring—but, oh, what a responsibility! Gervase might say that he would not willingly shorten her girlhood, but, alas! had he not already done so? To feel that another heart leant on her own, another life depended on her for happiness—was this not a reflection to sober the most careless and most light-hearted of natures? Nan knew full well that this short interview was as a milestone in her life, and that at one step she had left behind the careless days of youth.