“It is rather a violent remedy,” he said, hesitating again, “perhaps you would think it too great an effort.”
“Oh no, I am very resolute—only tell me what it is.”
He took a long breath, and then said quietly, almost harshly,
“Will you marry me?”
“Heaven!” she gasped, in a voice of deep emotion; but although her face expressed the deepest surprise, there was no sign of repugnance or alarm. Her bosom heaved, her lips parted, and her eyes became moist with tender brightness.
Boinville dared not look at her, lest he should read refusal in her face, but at last, alarmed by her long silence, he raised his head, saying, “You think me too old—you are frightened—”
“Not frightened,” she answered, simply, “but surprised, and—glad. It is too good. I can hardly believe it.”
“My darling!” he cried, taking both her hands “you must believe it. I am the one to be glad, for I love you.”
She was silent, but there was no mistaking the tenderness and gratitude that were shining in her eyes, and Hubert Boinville must have read them aright, for he drew her closely to him, and meeting with no resistance, raised her hands to his lips and kissed them with youthful fervor.
“Holy Mother!” cried the old lady, appearing on the scene at that instant, and the others turned round, he a little confused; the girl blushing, but radiant.