"Dear, dear Elsin!" I cried, catching her hand in both of mine again, crushing it to my lips.
"Don't, Carus," she said tremulously. "If you—if you do that—you might—you might conceive a—a regard for me."
"Lord, child!" I exclaimed, "you but this moment confessed your fancy for a man of whose very name and quality I stand in ignorance!"
She drew her hand away, laughing, a tenderness in her eyes I never had surprised there before.
"Silly," she said, "you know how inconstant I can be; you must never again caress me as you did—that first evening—do you remember? If we do that—if I suffer you to kiss me, maybe we both might find ourselves at love's mercy."
"You mean we might really be in love?" I asked curiously.
"I do not know. Do you think so?"
I laughed gaily, bending to search her eyes.
"What is love, Elsin? Truly, I do not know, having never loved, as you mean. Sir Peter wishes it; and here we are, with all the credit of Gretna Green but none of the happiness. Elsin, listen to me. Let us strive to fall in love; shall we? And the devil take your new gallant!"
"If you desire it——"