But by and by it did merge into sister minutes, just as good, and we began to talk and tell each other things. He told me again how he'd loved me from the very first instant, and I told him that after the day on the dock, if not before, I'd never quite had him out of my thoughts for a moment. "There has always been a sort of _undertone_ of you," I went on, "no matter what else I was thinking of, just as Sally says, when you are near the sea you hear it through every other sound." He liked having me say that, and his eyes _are_ too glorious when he likes things that I say. "I loved you so much," he answered, "that I felt my love _must_ have some power over your heart; it couldn't go for nothing. I knew I wasn't worthy of you, but the love was, for no man in your own world could offer you a greater one. That's my justification for asking you to put your hand in mine. But am I asking too much? Are you sure you won't regret anything you may have to give up?" "There's nothing I wouldn't give up to be with you always," I assured him. "But I don't see that I shall have to give up much that I really care for. We shall be poor, of course, but I shan't mind that a bit--with you. We can live in a sweet little cottage somewhere, can't we? Or if you have to be in a town, we shall have a wee, wee flat, and it will be such fun looking after it, just like having a doll's house, only a hundred times better. I've never been rich, you know; it's always been rather a struggle, and ever so many of my dresses have been made out of Mother's or Victoria's. I shall learn to cook and sew." "If I were so poor as all that, darling, I shouldn't be asking you to marry me," said Jim. "I'm better off than you think, for as I told you, I've been doing fairly well lately, and I guess if one of us two ever has to cook it will be I. We might have to do that sometimes, but it will only be if we're camping somewhere." "I do hope so. It would be glorious!" I exclaimed. "We can have the cottage or the flat all right, or maybe even both if things go on as well as they're going now," he said, "and there's nothing on God's earth I won't do to make you happy. Heavens! I should think so, after what you're doing for me--trusting me, without knowing any more of me than you've seen in these few weeks----" "I'd have trusted you to the world's end, after the day you jumped overboard and saved the little boy. Besides, you were _you_; and I'd have trusted you just the same if you hadn't." "Bless you, my angel. But think of the marriages you might have made." "I couldn't have made more than one, at least I hope not," said I, flippantly. "I could _never_ have married anyone but you, so I should have had to be an old maid if you hadn't asked me, and think how awful that would have been. You _don't_ regret asking me, do you?"