It began to turn cold as they sat by the stream and Milly or Mildred as she is henceforth to be called, drying her eyes, fell into a fever over her lover and besought him to return to the house.
Standing face to face, he put her arms around his neck.
“Before we go, dear child, you are sure you love me?”
“O do not ask me again, dear Dacre!”
“That is right. And you know how old I am?”
Another assent.
“And that you are to marry me whenever I say?”
“If I can.”
“Of course you can. And that you are to give me all the love you possibly have to give and more and more. I shall be exacting!”
“Dear Dacre!”