“No.”
“May I boast myself the first possessor of your heart?”
“Yes.” She had become very pale now, and was trembling painfully.
“And may I assume that your love for me has been entirely disinterested?... You do not catch my meaning? I will put my question in another way. In loving me, you never supposed me likely to return your love?”
The girl looked up at him quickly, but at once her eyelids fluttered down again.
“Come, come!” said the Duke. “My question is a plain one. Did you ever for an instant suppose, Katie, that I might come to love you?”
“No,” she said in a whisper; “I never dared to hope that.”
“Precisely,” said he. “You never imagined that you had anything to gain by your affection. You were not contriving a trap for me. You were upheld by no hope of becoming a young Duchess, with more frocks than you could wear and more dross than you could scatter. I am glad. I am touched. You are the first woman that has loved me in that way. Or rather,” he muttered, “the first but one. And she... Answer me,” he said, standing over the girl, and speaking with a great intensity. “If I were to tell you that I loved you, would you cease to love me?”
“Oh your Grace!” cried the girl. “Why no! I never dared—”
“Enough!” he said. “The catechism is ended. I have something which I should like to give you. Are your ears pierced?”