"Very well," he said, "it is forgotten. But your opinion is every thing to me, for I have loved you these dozen years, Patty. I've watched you growing up, and loved you more and more every year. I've had the words in my mouth a hundred times; but now I am able to marry, and I ask you to be my wife." However cool these words may seem in black and white, they were intense as Tom Putnam spoke them, his rich voice gathering force as he proceeded. He was moved from that calm which Flossy Plant declared to be an essential law of his existence. The passion he felt was too old, too well defined, to come stammering and broken from his tongue; but his voice trembled, and he bent forward until his hot breath touched her cheek. He did not again attempt to caress her, but she felt that his eyes were fixed upon her with a keenness that could almost pierce the darkness. Still her mood was a defensive one. That she fought against herself no less than against him, only added strength to her determination not to yield. "You had little faith in the depth of my love," she said at last, after a silence which seemed to both very long, "if you thought I should be afraid of poverty with you." "Then you do love me!" he exclaimed, in joyous, vibrating tones. "I did not say so," she retorted quickly. "I was talking of your feelings, not mine." "I had no right to ask you to share poverty," he said. "I loved you too well to do it." "That is because you looked only at your own side," she persisted. "If I loved a man, I should be glad if he were poor. I should delight to show him that I loved him better than any thing money would buy. Oh! I should be proud and glad to work for him if I need--and you thought I wouldn't do it!" He caught her hand, and kissed it passionately. "You know it is not that," he said. "I never thought any thing of you but that you were the noblest woman I knew; but I was not worth so much hardship--I couldn't bring it on you. But since you love me, I can wait." "I never said I loved you! I--I don't." "I know better," said he, springing up; "but let that go. It is beginning to rain, and sentiment must give place to reason. How shall you get into the house?" "But you must not go away thinking I love you," she said weakly. "How can you help it?" he returned. "How shall you get back to your room?" "If I only could wake Flossy, she'd help me." "Which is her window?" "The one over the rosebush." He took up a handful of pebbles, and threw them lightly against the panes until Flossy came to the window. "Who's there?" she called timidly. "It's I," Patty answered. "Come down." "What on earth!" began Flossy. "Come quick, and keep quiet." "She is coming," Putnam said. "Good-night, Patty. If you knew how I love you!" He kissed her hand again, and was gone just in time to escape Flossy. "How did you hit my window from the door-step?" the latter asked as the two girls climbed slowly the stairs.