"
"Love!" she exclaimed, "so soon; you have seen me only once!"
"Yes," he nodded, "it is, therefore, to be expected that I shall
worship you also--in due season."
Now Barnabas stood leaning upon his stick, a tall, impassive figure;
his voice was low, yet it thrilled in her ears, and there was that
in his steadfast eyes before which her own wavered and fell; yet,
even so, from the shadow of her hood, she must needs question him
further.
"Worship me? When?"
"When you are--my--wife."
Again she was silent, while one slender hand plucked nervously at
the grass.
"Are you so sure of me?" she inquired at last.
"No; only of myself."
"Ah! you mean to--force a promise from me--here?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because it is night, and you are solitary; I would not have you
fear me again. But I shall come to you, one day, a day when the sun
is in the sky, and friends are within call. I shall come and ask you
then."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then I shall wait."
"Until I wed another?"
"Until you change your mind."
"I think I shall--refuse you."
"Indeed, I fear it is very likely."
"Why?"
"Because of my unworthiness; and, therefore, I would not have you
kneel while I stand.
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