The sight of those tears, and her tremulous lips, so moved him that, with an impulsive motion, and a courage he would not have thought possible, he stooped and kissed her. “If you would only say that you do love me,” he urged. “I do love you, Justin,” she said, with girlish earnestness, “and you ought to know that I do.” “I have always dreamed of this,” he declared, putting both arms about her and drawing her close against his heart. “I have always dreamed of this; that we might love each other, and be always together. I think that has been in my heart since the day I first saw you.” He held her tightly now, as if thus he would keep her near him forever. “Have you truly loved me always?” she asked, after a long silence. “Always; ever since I knew you!” “But you—you did care for Mary, before I came?” “I always liked Mary.” “And you like her now?” “Yes, but I love you; and that is very different.” She sat quite still, but picked at the leaf of the cotton wood. He seemed so strong and so masterful that the touch of his hands and the pressure of his arms gave her a delightful sense of weakness and dependence, a hitherto unknown feeling. “You never cared for Mary as—as you do me?” “I truly never loved Mary at all; I liked her, and we used to have great fun together. But we were only children then, you know!” She saw one of the hands that enfolded her; the sleeve of his coat was drawn up slightly, disclosing the clear white of the skin and the deep line of tan at the wrist. She ventured to look at his face—the side of it turned toward her; it was as tanned as his hand. Something more than admiration shone in her brown eyes. “And now you think you are a big man!” “I am older,” he said, simply. “And was that—that the reason why you tamed my mustang that day, so that he wouldn’t be killed? Because you loved me? I’ve wondered about that.” “That was the reason; but I was anxious, too, to save him.” She was silent again, as if pondering this. “I’ve thought that might be the reason; and, you won’t laugh at me if I tell you, that’s why I’ve ridden him so much since. Uncle Philip didn’t want me to go near him after that. But I would; and I’ve ridden him ever since; though Pearl has told me a dozen times that he would throw me and kill me. But I was going to ride him if I could, because—because you conquered him—for me.” He kissed her again, softly. “You musn’t take too many risks with the mustang; for—for some time, you know, you are going to marry me, I hope?” She did not answer. “It’s a long way off, that some time, but—” She did not look at him. “Yes, some time, if I can,” she said timidly. “If you can?” “If Uncle Philip will let me.” “He’s only your guardian, and you’ll be of age by and by.” “It seems a good while yet.” “But it will come.” “Yes, it will come.” “I’ll wait until that some time,” he promised in a low voice.