"Am I to have it?"
"To have what?"
"An answer."
"I don't know what it's to be, Mr. Landholm," Elizabeth stammered. "What do you want?"
"Will you give me what I asked you for?"
"I thought you knew you had it already," she said, not a little vexed to have the words drawn from her.
"It is mine, then?"
"Yes —"
"Then," said he, coming in full view of her blushing face and taking the other hand, — "what are you troubled for?"
Elizabeth could not have borne it one instant, to meet his eye, without breaking into a flood of tears she had no hands to cover. As her only way of escape, she sprang to one side freeing one of her hands on the sudden, and jumped down the rock, muttering something very unintelligibly about 'breakfast.' But her other hand was fast still, and so was she at the foot of the rock.