Adam saw it. It was rising and falling like a little golden ship, on her bosom. He felt himself somewhat at sea. If he could only have blurted out that he loved her—if it had not been for Wainsworth, what a moment this would have been!
“I am glad you like it,” he said.
Garde felt that there was little encouragement in this remark. “You will not forget to give the tea to Captain Phipps, will you?” she said. “I think I must now return.”
“I wish you had brought this tea down here for me!” said Rust suddenly, no longer answerable to his loyalty to Wainsworth.
Garde had wished he would say these very words. She had rehearsed the answer she would make if he did. Her heart, had it been a bird beating its wings, could not have fluttered more wildly.
“If I had come down here to see you, it would only have been to tell you that you have made some mistake,” she said, averting her gaze from his and looking on the ground.
Adam trembled, uncontrollably, violently. She saw it in his hand.
“Do you mean——” he said.
“Yes,” said Garde, raising her eyes to his frankly.
“Then I can love you! I do love you! I’ll come back here and marry you, sweetheart! I shall love you and tell you I love you and love you!” he burst forth passionately. “My little Garde! my love! my sweetheart!—my little wife that I shall have and love till my heart is full!”