“Yes,” answered Em, looking up as well as she could for the little yellow fringe.
“But I’m sure you must be cold,” said Gregory, and put his hand under the cloak, and found there a small fist doubled up, soft, and very warm. He held it fast in his hand.
“Oh, Em, I love you better than all the world besides! Tell me, do you love me a little?”
“Yes, I do,” said Em, hesitating, and trying softly to free her hand.
“Better than everything; better than all the world, darling?” he asked, bending down so low that the yellow hair was blown into his eyes.
“I don’t know,” said Em, gravely. “I do love you very much; but I love my cousin who is at school, and Waldo, very much. You see I have known them so long!”
“Oh, Em, do not talk to me so coldly!” Gregory cried, seizing the little arm that rested on the gate, and pressing it till she was half afraid. The herdsman had moved away to the other end of the kraal now, and the cows, busy with their calves, took no notice of the little human farce. “Em, if you talk so to me I will go mad! You must love me, love me better than all! You must give yourself to me. I have loved you since that first moment when I saw you walking by the stone wall with the jug in your hands. You were made for me, created for me! I will love you till I die! Oh, Em, do not be so cold, so cruel to me!”
He held her arm so tightly that her fingers relaxed their hold, and the cloak fluttered down on to the ground, and the wind played more roughly than ever with the little yellow head.
“I do love you very much,” she said; “but I do not know if I want to marry you. I love you better than Waldo, but I can’t tell if I love you better than Lyndall. If you would let me wait for a week I think perhaps I could tell you.”
Gregory picked up the cloak and wrapped it round her.