"I come of a race of fighters," cried the girl. "When Philip of Spain sent over his Great Armada, to rob us of our liberty, one of my ancestors fought the Dons. He gave ships and men to our country, and helped to save us from oppression. When Napoleon cast a shadow over Europe, and threatened to destroy our country, men of my name were among the foremost in fighting him. My grandfather represented St. Ia in Parliament, and he roused the country. While you--oh, Bob, forgive me, but your ideal seems to be to sit in a library in Oxford, wearing a dirty old dressing-gown and iron-rimmed spectacles, reading or writing books which will be of no use to any one! Is that a life for a man?" "But if his mind is cast in that mould?" "I haven't finished yet," went on the girl. "Forgive me, Bob, for talking so much. I wouldn't only--oh, Bob, can't you see? Why, at our last dance--when--when I had kept four for you, you never even asked for them. And I--I wanted to dance them too; but--but I had to sit them out, and when other men begged me to let them put their names down on my card, I said I was tired. Then, when I heard afterwards that you had gone into the library, and were reading some old book which hadn't been opened for years, I just--cried." "Oh, Nancy, I never dreamt of such a thing! I--I never thought you wanted me. I was just aching for you all the time, but I thought--why, you've always laughed at my dancing. But there, now I know, I can do anything, be anything. And there's nothing I won't do for you?" "You are not vexed with me, are you?" "I couldn't be vexed with you, Nancy. I'd let myself be cut in bits for you. And you love me, don't you? Oh, it's too good to be true! but say you do, tell me that in spite of everything you love me?" "Haven't I been telling you so all the time? And--and yet you haven't asked me to--to----" "What, Nancy?" "Oh, I do hate a coward!" "But what haven't I asked you?" "Bob, isn't there something you want very much?" "Yes, there is," replied Bob. "Something--that---- Nancy, you won't be vexed with me if I ask you?" "Risk my being vexed," laughed the girl. "Then I want to take you in my arms, and kiss you--kiss you a hundred times." "Then, why don't you?" Bob looked around him, like one afraid. They were beneath the shadow of a great rock. At their feet was headland grass, wind-swept and grey, but peeping through the grass were thousands upon thousands of wild thyme, giving the little plateau a purple hue. They were hidden from the gaze of any who might be on the great rock. His heart beat so that his breath came with difficulty; he was trembling with a new-found joy--a joy so great that it almost gave him pain. "Oh, my love!--my love!" he cried, as he took her in his arms, and his kisses were as pure as those with which a young mother lasses her firstborn. "What haven't I asked you?" he said, a few minutes later.