"For a very good and to me rather sad reason, my lady: the only woman I could marry or should ever be able to marry would not have me. She is very kind and very noble, but--It is preposterous, the thing is too preposterous: I dare not have the presumption to ask her." Malcolm's voice trembled as he spoke, and a few moments' pause followed, during which he could not lift his eyes. The whole heaven seemed pressing down their lids. The breath which he modelled into words seemed to come in little billows. But his words had raised a storm in Clementina's bosom. A cry broke from her as if driven forth by pain. She called up all the energy of her nature and stilled herself to speak. The voice that came was little more than a sob-scattered whisper, but to her it seemed as if all the world must hear. "Oh, Malcolm," she panted, "I _will_ try to be good and wise. Don't marry anybody else--_anybody_, I mean; but come with Kelpie and be my groom, and wait and see if I don't grow better." Malcolm leaped to his feet and threw himself at hers. He had heard, but in part, and he _must_ know all. "My lady," he said with intense quiet, "Kelpie and I will be your slaves. Take me for fisherman, groom, what you will. I offer the whole sum of service that is in me." He kissed her feet. "My lady, I would put your feet on my head," he went on, "only then what should I do when I see my Lord and cast myself before _Him_?" But Clementina, again her own to give, rose quickly, and said with all the dignity born of her inward grandeur, "Rise, Malcolm: you misunderstand me." Malcolm rose abashed, but stood erect before her, save that his head was bowed, for his heart was sunk in dismay. Then slowly, gently, Clementina knelt before him. He was bewildered, and thought she was going to pray. In sweet, clear, unshaken tones, for she feared nothing now, she said, "Malcolm, I am not worthy of you. But take me--take my very soul if you will, for it is yours." Now Malcolm saw that he had no right to raise a kneeling lady: all he could do was to kneel beside her. When people kneel, they lift up their hearts; and the creating Heart of their joy was forgotten of neither. And well for them, for the love where God is not, be the lady lovely as Cordelia, the man gentle as Philip Sidney, will fare as the overkept manna. When the huge tidal wave from the ocean of infinite delight had broken at last upon the shore of the finite, and withdrawn again into the deeps, leaving every cistern brimming, every fountain overflowing, the two entranced souls opened their bodily eyes, looked at each other, rose, and stood hand in hand, speechless. "Ah, my lady!" said Malcolm at length, "what is to become of this delicate smoothness in my great rough hand? Will it not be hurt?" "You don't know how strong it is, Malcolm. There!" "I can scarcely feel it with my hand, my lady: it all goes through to my heart. It shall lie in mine as the diamond in the rock."