“Nay, lady,” said Ralph, “I see that my presence has unsettled you—I will withdraw.”
“No, Ralph, you may remain,” she said. She did not like him to go away with the impression that she was but a clumsy player after all. And again she tossed the “Diabolo” high into the air, and again it came down on her beautiful little nose.
“Lady,” said he, “put aside that silly toy and listen. I am a poor uneducated fellow who has dared to love you, but before you dismiss me with contempt, do not forget that I am a British sailor. It is important to bear that in mind.”
Josephine was much moved, and though she was a girl of great strength of mind she would not trust herself to speak. So she merely exclaimed “Pooh!” and again threw up the toy, with the same painful results.
“Nay, lady,” said he, “I feel that this indifference is assumed. I distinctly see a tear trembling in your left eye.”
“It—it was the Diabolo,” she said (not quite truthfully), “it hurt.”
“Then—you reject me?” said he.
“Sir,” said she, “you forget the disparity in our ranks.”
“I forget nothing, haughty girl,” said Ralph. “Give me hope, and what I lack in education and polite accomplishments, I will endeavour to acquire. Drive me to despair, and in death alone I shall look for consolation. I am proud, and cannot stoop to implore. I have spoken and I await your word.”
As he finished, he assumed an attitude of such extraordinary dignity that Josephine was on the point of saying “Take me and be happy,” but the noble girl called all her resolution to her aid, and haughtily replied: