Connie's tense figure relaxed then, and she turned at once toward the door. "I am going," she said in a low voice. But she looked back again before she closed the door after her. "Carol," she said in a whisper, "you--you're a darling. I--I've always thought so." Carol did not hear her,--she did not hear the door closing behind her--she had forgotten Connie was there. Mr. Duke stood up and walked quickly across the room and Carol rose to meet him. He put his arms about her, strongly, without hesitating. "Carol," he said, "my little song-bird,"--and he laughed, but very tenderly, "would you like to know how to make me say what you know I want to say?" "I--I--" she began tremulously, clasping her hands against his breast, and looking intently, as if fascinated, at his square firm chin so very near her eyes. She had never observed it so near at hand before. She thought it was a lovely chin,--in another man she would have called it distinctly "bossy." "You _would_ try to make me, when you know I've been gritting my teeth for years, waiting for you to get grown up. You've been awfully slow about it, Carol, and I've been in such a hurry for you." She rested limply in his arms now, breathing in little broken sighs, not trying to speak. "You have known it a long time, haven't you? And I thought I was hiding it so cleverly." He drew her closer in his arms. "You are too young for me, Carol," he said regretfully. "I am very old." "I--I like 'em old," she whispered shyly. With one hand he drew her head to his shoulder, where he could feel the warm fragrant breath against the "lovely chin." "You like 'them' old," he repeated, smiling. "You are very generous. One old one is all I want you to like." But when he leaned toward her lips, Carol drew away swiftly. "Don't be afraid of me, Carol. You didn't mind once when I kissed you." He laid his hand softly on her round cheek. "I am too old, dearest, but I've been loving you for years I guess. I've been waiting for you since you were a little freshman, only I didn't know it for a while. Say something, Carol--I don't want you to feel timid with me. You love me, don't you? Tell me, if you do." "I--I." She looked up at him desperately. "I--well, I made you say it, didn't I?" "Did you want me to say it, dearest? Have you been waiting, too? How long have you--" "Oh, a long time; since that night among the rose bushes at the parsonage." "Since then?" "Yes; that was why it didn't break my pledge when you kissed me. Because I--was waiting then." "Do you love me?" "Oh, P'fessor, don't make me say it right out in plain English--not to-night. I'm pretty nearly going to cry now, and--" she twinkled a little then, like herself, "you know what crying does to my complexion." But he did not smile. "Don't cry," he said. "We want to be happy to-night. You will tell me to-morrow. To-night--"