"There is nothing anybody can do, Jeff," she said piteously. Her eyes, those clear child-eyes, filled with tears. "I shall be braver--stronger--after a while. But just now I have no strength left. I feel like a lost, helpless child. Oh, Jeff!" She put her slender hands over her face and sobbed. Every sob cut Jeffrey to the heart. "Don't--don't, Sara," he said huskily. "I can't bear to see you suffer so. I'd die for you if it would do you any good. I love you--I love you! I never meant to tell you so, but it is the truth. I oughtn't to tell you now. Don't think that I'm trying to take any advantage of your loneliness and sorrow. I know--I have always known--that you are far above me. But that couldn't prevent my loving you--just humbly loving you, asking nothing else. You may be angry with my presumption, but I can't help telling you that I love you. That's all. I just want you to know it." Sara had turned away her head. Jeffrey was overcome with contrition. Ah, he had no business to speak so--he had spoiled the devotion of years. Who was he that he should have dared to love her? Silence alone had justified his love, and now he had lost that justification. She would despise him. He had forfeited her friendship for ever. "Are you angry, Sara?" he questioned sadly, after a silence. "I think I am," said Sara. She kept her stately head averted. "If--if you have loved me, Jeff, why did you never tell me so before?" "How could I dare?" he said gravely. "I knew I could never win you--that I had no right to dream of you so. Oh, Sara, don't be angry! My love has been reverent and humble. I have asked nothing. I ask nothing now but your friendship. Don't take that from me, Sara. Don't be angry with me." "I _am_ angry," repeated Sara, "and I think I have a right to be." "Perhaps so," he said simply, "but not because I have loved you. Such love as mine ought to anger no woman, Sara. But you have a right to be angry with me for presuming to put it into words. I should not have done so--but I could not help it. It rushed to my lips in spite of me. Forgive me." "I don't know whether I can forgive you for not telling me before," said Sara steadily. "_That_ is what I have to forgive--not your speaking at last, even if it was dragged from you against your will. Did you think I would make you such a very poor wife, Jeff, that you would not ask me to marry you?" "Sara!" he said, aghast. "I--I--you were as far above me as a star in the sky--I never dreamed--I never hoped----"