‘Yes. You think me a child still, a doll, with no heart, or head, or will of my own. Ah! you don’t know me. If you were to say, now, “Dulcie, I want you,” I’d follow you to the end of the world.’ ‘Dulcie!’ He stretched his arms towards her, but fell back and let them drop at his sides again. ‘I daren’t! I mustn’t! There’s a great black river running between you and me.’ Dulcie laughed with the old dashing spirit, so alien to his own. ‘Then show your pluck. Strip off your coat, plunge in, and swim across the river! I’ll help you up the bank when you reach the other side.’ ‘Oh, Dulcie! my darling!’ Desmond caught her in his arms with a sudden gust of passion, and strained her to his breast. ‘Dulce, dulce domum!’ she said with another laugh, though her own eyes were brimming. ‘You may _kiss_ me if you like,’ she added with ineffable drollness. Choking with tears, he pressed his lips to her face. ‘That’s a dreadfully damp kiss. Sure, you’ve swallowed the river. No, you shan’t go. I’ve got you, and I mean to keep you.’ ‘You--you love me, Dulcie?’ said Desmond, breathless with wonder and delight. ‘A wee little bit,’ said Dulcie; ‘just the least little bit in the world. Now, just sit down like a good sensible boy and listen to me. No more nonsense, if you please, about “shame” and “disgrace.” Our parents don’t consult us as to the how and the where of our being born, and I don’t see why we should trouble our heads about _them!_ A boy’s a boy, and a girl’s a girl, and this boy and girl quite understand each other. Don’t we?’ she asked, nestling up to him. ‘I never knew you to be so backward before, Desmond! That river has washed all the old impudence out of you.’ Her raillery could not altogether conquer Desmond’s gloom. ‘It can’t be, Dulcie. You’re only opening the door to a fool’s paradise for me. I’ve lived in one long enough. ’Tis time I came out and looked at the world as it is. It can never be. It’s madness to think of it. Even if it were different, even if the trouble had never fallen on me, I could never have hoped to win you. You’re a lady. I’m only the Squireen.’ ‘You’ve grown mighty humble all of a sudden,’ said Dulcie. ‘You weren’t like this only this afternoon. After I’d waded with you across the pool, you had the impudence to kiss my shoes.’ ‘Sure I did,’ replied Desmond. ‘And I’m ready now to kiss your feet.’ ‘That’s better,’ said Dulcie, nestling nearer yet. ‘That’s more like the old Desmond. But a boy of taste would look a little higher. The mouth’s prettier, and more “convanient,” as you’d call it. Ah!’ she continued, with a sudden gush of tenderness, ‘don’t think me too bold! don’t think me an outrageous little flirt! It wasn’t till I felt your trouble that I knew my own heart, and learned that I loved you so much.’ She broke into a sudden sob. ‘Tell me you’re not miserable any more!’