"But I--I am not to become that; I wish I could, but it is impossible," she stammered, setting about her task in hesitating perplexity.
"Anna, do you understand me? I am asking you to be my wife."
"Yes, I--I believe I understood; and I feel very grateful to you, all the same."
"All the same!" Isaac Thornycroft released her hand and turned to face her.
"Just tell me what you mean. Don't you care for me?"
Agitated, embarrassed, she burst into tears. Isaac took both her hands now, holding them before him. They had reached the churchyard, and its graves were distinct in the twilight; the stars looked down on them from the blue sky above; the sound of the surging sea came over with a faint murmur.
"I thought you loved me, Anna. Surely I cannot have been steering on a wrong tack?"
As the soft eyes glanced at him through their tears, he saw enough to know that she did love him. Reassured on that score, he turned and walked on again, her arm kept within his.
"Now, tell me what you mean," he said, quietly. "There can be no other bar."
"I do not know how to tell you," she answered. "I do not like to tell you."