She heard the sigh that wasted itself on his lips.
"I am glad you can say that,—I wish you would look up!" he said wistfully.
"Are you going to-night?" she questioned.
"Yes, but I am coming back. I shan't find that you have forgotten me when I come, shall I, Elizabeth?"
She looked up quickly into his troubled face, and it was not the warm firelight that brought the rich color in a sudden flame to her cheeks.
"I shall not forget you."
There was a determined gentleness in her speech and manner that gave him courage.
"I haven't any right to talk to you in this way; I know I haven't, but—Oh, I want you, Elizabeth!" And all at once he was on his knees beside her, his arms about her. "Don't forget me, dear! I love you, I Love you—I want you—Oh, I want you for my wife!"
The girl looked into the passionate face upturned to hers, and then her head drooped. And so they remained long; his dark head resting in her arms; her fair face against it.
"Why do you go, John?" she asked at length, out of the rich content of their silence.