He would die without me."
Here, of course, I might expect tears, nor was I disappointed. I, too,
found the tears coming to my eyes, for her grief touched me keenly, and
her love for her father showed me even more plainly than I had ever
before known the unselfish tenderness of the girl I so longed to possess.
It was hard for me to speak against this argument of hers; for it was
like finding fault with the best part of her, so for a little time we
were silent. After a minute or two, she glanced up to me and, seeing my
great trouble, murmured brokenly:--
"If you think I am worth waiting for, and if you will wait till father is
gone, I will go with you, and your smallest and greatest wish alike shall
be mine. And when you become ashamed of me, I'll--"
"I'll not wait, Betty," I answered, ignoring the latter half of her
remark. "I have a far better plan. I am going to France, and you and
your father shall go with me."
"Ah, will you take him?" she cried, falling to the floor on her knees,
creeping between mine, and clasping her hands about my neck. Her sweet,
warm breath came to me like a waft from a field of roses, the fluffy
shreds of her hair tingled my cheek, thrilling me to the heart, while the
touch of her hand and the clasp of her arm carried me to heaven.
Then she laid her head on my breast, her lips came close to mine, and she
murmured with a sigh:--
"Now, Baron Ned, as you will.
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