ther's words gave sight to a blind, vague misgiving she
had already felt, but at the same time she could not believe that
Wellesly meant less than his words when he told her that he loved her
and wished to make her his wife.

"Why should he propose to me if he does not wish to marry me?" she
argued with herself, "and why should he want to marry me if he does
not love me? No, he surely loves me. Perhaps father is right about the
Frenchmen. He knows them, but he does not understand the Americans.
They always feel so sure about things, and they do everything as if
there was no possibility of failure. But I wish I knew if I love him!
I suppose I do, for I felt so pleased that he should wish to marry me.
But I don't have to decide at once. I'll wait till he comes to Las
Plumas again before I give him an answer."

She debated whether or not she ought to tell her father and ask his
advice, but she feared that in his mind other considerations would
outweigh the one she felt to be the chief, and she decided to say
nothing to him until she knew her own mind in the matter. "If I refuse
him," she said to herself, "there will be no reason for me to say
anything about it, and it wouldn't be fair to Mr. Wellesly for me to
tell father or any one else that he had proposed to me. Besides,
father might possibly speak of it outside, and I couldn't bear to
think that people were gossiping about it. No, I will not say
anything, unless I should decide that I want to marry him. Then I will
ask father if he thinks I'd better."

The next morning she woke with a sudden start, all her consciousness
filled with an overwhelming desire to love and be loved, to be all of
life to some one who would be more than life to her. She sat up,
panting, pressing her hand to her heart. At once her thoughts leaped
to Wellesly.

"He loves me, he has told me so, and surely this is love I feel now,
and for him. I suppose--I do--love him."

She lifted her nightgown above her bare feet and stood beside little
Paul's crib. With her disheveled hair falling in waving masses around
her face she bent over him and lightly kissed his forehead.

"My little Bye-Bye, I would not leave you to be any man's wife. But he
will not wish me to leave you, because he thinks--that it is beautiful
and noble that I--that I have cared for you--though how could I have
done anything else--and that is partly why he loves me. Surely, I love
him, and I suppose--it is best--for me to marry