"You are looking at me as if you never saw me before, Angus!" she said, her voice sinking softly, as she pronounced his name. "Positively, I don't think I ever have!" he answered "Not as you are now, Mary! I have never seen you look so beautiful! I have never seen you before as my love! my wife!" She drew herself a little away from him. "But, are you sure you are doing right for yourself?" she asked--"You know you could marry anybody----" He laughed, and threw one arm round her waist. "Thanks!--I don't want to marry 'anybody'--I want to marry _you_! The question is, will you have me?" She smiled. "If I thought it would be for your good----" Stooping quickly he kissed her. "_That's_ very much for my good!" he declared. "And now that I've told you my mind, you must tell me yours. Do you love me, Mary?" "I'm afraid you know that already too well!" she said, with a wistful radiance in her eyes. "I don't!" he declared--"I'm not at all sure of you----" She interrupted him. "Are you sure of yourself?" "Mary!" "Ah, don't look so reproachful! It's only for you I'm thinking! You see I'm nothing but a poor working woman of what is called the lower classes--I'm not young, and I'm not clever. Now you've got genius; you'll be a great man some day, quite soon perhaps--you may even become rich as well as famous, and then perhaps you'll be sorry you ever met me----" "In that case I'll call upon the public hangman and ask him to give me a quick despatch," he said promptly; "Though I shouldn't be worth the expense of a rope!" "Angus, you won't be serious!" "Serious? I never was more serious in my life! And I want my question answered." "What question?" "Do you love me? Yes or no!" He held her close and looked her full in the face as he made this peremptory demand. Her cheeks grew crimson, but she met his searching gaze frankly. "Ah, though you are a man, you are a spoilt child!" she said. "You know I love you more than I can say!--and yet you want me to tell you what can never be told!" He caught her to his heart, and kissed her passionately. "That's enough!" he said--"For if you love me, Mary, your love is love indeed!--it's no sham; and like all true and heavenly things, it will never change. I believe, if I turned out to be an utter wastrel, you'd love me still!" "Of course I should!" she answered. "Of course you would!" and he kissed her again. "Mary, _my_ Mary, if there were more women like you, there would be more men!--men in the real sense of the word--manly men, whose love and reverence for women would make them better and braver in the battle of life. Do you know, I can do anything now, with you to love me! I don't suppose,"--and here he unconsciously squared his shoulders--"I really don't suppose there is a single difficulty in my way that I won't conquer!" She smiled, leaning against him. "If you feel like that, I am very happy!" she said.