“You love me,” she said, her voice low and quivering with a passionate scorn, “and you treat me so? Let us go.” She moved toward her horse.
“Kathleen, hear me,” he entreated. “You must hear me. You shall hear me.” He caught her once more by the arm. “I forgot myself. I saw you lying there so white. How could I help it? I meant no harm. I have loved you since you were a little girl, since that day I saw you first herding the cattle. You had a blue dress and long braids. I loved you then. I have loved you every day since. I think of you and I dream of you. The world is full of you. I am offering you marriage. I want you to be my wife.” The hands that clutched her arm were shaking, his voice was thick and broken. But still she stood with her face turned from him, quietly trying to break from his grasp. But no word did she speak.
“Kathleen, I forgot myself,” he said, letting go of her arm. “I was wrong, but, my God, Kathleen, I am not stone, and when I felt your heart beat against mine—”
“Oh,” she cried, shuddering and drawing further away from him.
“—and your face so white, your dear face so near mine, I forgot myself.”
“No,” said the girl, turning her face toward him and searching him with her quiet, steady, but contemptuous eyes, “you forgot me.”
CHAPTER IX
EXCEPT HE STRIVE LAWFULLY
The Wolf Willow Dominion Day Celebration Committee were in session in the schoolhouse with the Reverend Evans Rhye in the chair, and all of the fifteen members in attendance. The reports from the various sub-committees had been presented and approved.