He stood at the other side of the table with brows suddenly grown gloomy. ‘I shall feel it all my life,’ he said. ‘It’s the one thing I’ve ever been in earnest about. I never thought I should feel as I do. If you like to wait, dear, before answering me, I’ll wait just as long as ever you please.’ His gloom was gone, and he was all eagerness and vivacity again. ‘There’s nothing I won’t do for your asking. I’ll cure every fault I’ve got. I’ll be everything you’d like to have me. Try me, darling. Wait and see. But give me only just a little bit of hope. Don’t send me away quite hungry. Tell me you care for me just a little--not as I care for you--I don’t expect that. It doesn’t stand to reason yet awhile you should.’ There she shot one swift glance at him, averting her gaze at once. ‘I won’t say I don’t like you,’ she answered with a candour half rustic, half characteristic of herself ‘But I won’t answer yes or no just yet.’ ‘Very well, dear,’ he answered tenderly. ‘You shall have time to know if I’m in earnest, or if I’ve taken nothing more than a passing fancy. Shall I ask you again this day six months?’ ‘I won’t promise you an answer then,’ she said. ‘I will answer you when I am certain.’ ‘You could care for me, then,’ he urged her, ‘if you were only quite sure I loved you, and always would love you? Why, Bertha, I’d put my hand in that fire to save you from a finger-ache. I’d jump into the Weale there if I thought I could make you happy by doing it. I’d live my whole life your servant for a smile a year.’ His eyes flashed or moistened with every phrase, his gestures were superabundant and intense, and his voice was genuinely tender and impassioned. His ardent eyes and voice thrilled the girl, and yet she doubted him. There was a fear in her mind which she could not shake away.