"If it should create in me such a disturbance as you seem to undergo, I shouldn't wish it to increase. But, I assure you, it isn't in me." "Pray think it is. Only imagine it is there, and soon it will be." She felt that the time was at hand to strike the blow. "If I could be perfectly sure you spoke in earnest," she said, seeming to search his countenance for testimony. "In earnest!" he echoed. "Great heavens, what evidence do you want? If there is an aspect of love I do not have, tell me, and I shall put it on." "Yes, you are experienced in putting on the _aspects_ of love." "Oh, you well know I have no reason now for declaring a love I don't feel. If you could be sure I spoke in earnest, you said,--what then? Tell me, and I shall find a way to convince you I _am_ in earnest." "Convince me first." "'Convince me,' you say. And I say, 'Be convinced.' By the Lord, never was so great a sceptic! Is not your sense of your own charms sufficient to convince you of their effect?" "Mere words!" "I'll prove my love by acts, then!" "By what acts?" "By fighting for you or suffering for you, dying for you or living for you, as you may command." "You can prove it thus. Say, 'Long live the King!'" He gazed at her a moment. "No," he said. "Say, 'Long live the King!'" She went to the door, and paused on the threshold, looking at him, as if to give him a last opportunity. "Long live the King--" he said. She came back from the door. "Of France!" he added. "No," she cried, and dictated, "'Long live the King of Great Britain!'" "Long live the King of Great Britain,--but not of America." "No! 'Long live George the Third, King of Great Britain and the American colonies!'" "Long live George the Third, King of Great Britain and--Ireland." "'And of the American colonies.' Say it! Say it all!" "Long live Elizabeth Philipse, queen of beauty in the United States of America!" he answered. "You don't love me," said she, and set her mind to finding some other means by which he might evince what she knew he would never demonstrate in the way she had demanded. And she resolved his humiliation should be all the greater for the delay. "You don't love me." "I do. I swear, on my knees." "Then _get_ on your knees!" "I do!" He dropped on one knee. "Both knees!" "Both." He suited action to word. "Bow lower." "I touch the floor." He did so, with his forehead. "Are you convinced?" "Yes." And she moved thoughtfully towards the door of the east hall. "Ah! Convinced that I love you madly?" In obedience to a gesture, he remained on his knees. "Perfectly convinced." "Then, the reward of which you hinted?" "Reward?" "You said, if you could be sure I spoke in earnest. Now you admit you are sure. What then?" She let her eyes rest on him a moment, without speaking, as he looked ardently and expectantly up at her from his kneeling attitude, while she took in breath, and then she flung her answer at him.