“Since you have guessed what I wanted to say, answer me quickly.”
“Must I? Must I, really? Why didn’t you ask my father to do your commission? It is so horribly disagreeable to do these things for one’s self.”
“That depends upon what the things may be that have to be said. I should think it ought to be very agreeable to pronounce the word on which the happiness of a whole life is to depend.”
“Oh! what a grand phrase! As if I could be essential to anybody’s happiness? You can’t make me believe that!”
“You are mistaken. You are indispensable to mine.”
“There! my declaration has been made,” thought Fred, much relieved that it was over, for he had been afraid to pronounce the decisive words.
“Well, if I thought that were true, I should be very sorry,” said Jacqueline, no longer smiling, but looking down fixedly at the pointed toe of her little slipper; “because—”
She stopped suddenly. Her face flushed red.
“I don’t know how to explain to you;” she said.
“Explain nothing,” pleaded Fred; “all I ask is Yes, nothing more. There is nothing else I care for.”