"If you will accept me as your lover, yes," Paul answered. He was all aglow with happiness. It is true that she was timid, shrinking, only now half conscious of what he meant, of what he offered. Yet through it all, nay, because of that very timidity, he felt that she cared for him—a little, and a great yearning filled his soul to make that little much. As yet he must be content that she had not repelled him; for, child as she was, Paul felt assured that the sweet, strong woman-being within her would have rejected his love with none of the uncertainty with which she had half accepted it; would have rejected it finally and with decision—for the time being, at all events. How utterly adorable she was, this queen among girls, this innocent, but half awake, maiden! How could he ever deserve her—how make himself worthy? What an inestimable privilege was his: to teach her love. An intense, an infinite tenderness was astir in the young fellow’s strong, manly nature. Ah, how patient, how gentle he must be! Nor could he ever be patient and gentle enough. He would bear that in mind, always. "Hazel, my little love," he murmured. "Look in my eyes and tell me once more that you love me—a little. Say: ’Paul, I love you, and presently I shall love you more.’" Hazel raised her eyes obediently, but only to his collar stud. "I—I love you a little," she stammered. "You won’t look at me?" he pleaded. "I _am_ looking, hard," she averred, blinking at his chin. "And you won’t say, ’Paul’?" "It would be too silly," she objected, "when you are here, attending to me." He longed to seal the compact between them with a kiss, a solemn, sacred kiss; but he felt the time was not yet. She had given him so much! Just now he must not ask for more. He must respect her sweet delicacy; he must not dismay or trouble her. He would be patient, gentle, all unselfish. In this wise he might grow to be worthy of her love, and, worthy, might gain it. *CHAPTER XVII* To return to the day of Hazel’s visit to her brother’s lodgings, Teddie’s incredulous delight, when he came home to the rooms in Baker Street, and had toiled up to the little top chamber, somewhat dispirited, to find the bank-note upon his dressing-table, may be imagined. He eagerly seized upon and read the few lines that Hazel had written in explanation. They did not tell him much; only that he might spend the money with an easy mind; asking him to try to keep free from debt in the future, as next time she would find it far more difficult to help him.