“But I do not want to wait until you are sure.”
“I am sure now.”
“No doubt. Tell me now.”
How many times his irresistibly boyish manner had forced from her words that she had afterward sorely regretted!
“You will not be pleased. You will dislike me forever after.”
“Much you will care for that.”
“Shall I not?” smiling at the humor in his eyes. “I think that I do not care as I once did for what people think of me; the question nowadays is what I think of them.”
“I will remember,” he said urgently, “that I brought it all upon my own head.”
How could he guess that in her heart was lodged one unpleasant thought of him? Had she not a little while—such a little while since—cared so much for him that he was grieved for her?
“You must promise not to be cross.”