ry me, Julie, won't you?" he
demanded.

Before his eyes, a lingering trace of that old look crept back into her
face. She put her hands beneath his chin, and said no word, till he could
stand it no longer.

"Julie, Julie, my darling," he said, "you must."

"Must, Peter?" she queried, a little wistfully he thought.

"Yes, must; but say you want to, say you will, Julie!"

"I want to, Peter," she said--"oh, my dear, you don't know, you can't
know, how much. The form is nothing to me, but I want _you_--if I can
keep you."

"If you can keep me!" echoed Peter, and it was as if an ice-cold finger
had suddenly been laid on his heart. For one second he saw what might be.
But he banished it. "What!" he exclaimed. "Cannot you trust me, Julie?
Don't you know I love you? Don't you know I want to make you the very
centre of my being, Julie?"

"I know, dearest," she whispered, and he had never heard her speak so
before. "You want, that is one thing; you can, that is another."

Peter stared up at her. He felt like a little child who kneels at the
feet of a mother whom it sees as infinitely loving, infinitely wise,
infinitely old. And, like a child, he buried his head in her lap. "Oh,
Julie," he said, "you must marry me. I want you so that I can't tell you
how much. I don't know what you mean. Say," he said, looking up again and
clasping her tightly--"say you'll marry me, Julie!"

She sprang up with a laugh. "Peter," she said, "you're Mid-Victorian. You
are actually proposing to me upon your knees. If I could curtsy or faint
I would, but I can't. Every scrap of me is modern, down to Venns'
cami-knickers that you wouldn't let me talk about. Let's go and eat
kippers; I'm dying for them. Come on, old Solomon."

He got up more slowly, half-smiling, for who could resist Julie in that
mood? But he made one more effort. He caught her hand. "But just say
'Yes' Julie," he said--"just 'Yes.'"

She snatched her hand away. "Maybe I will tell you on Monday morning,"
she said, and ran out of the room.

As he finished dressing, he heard her singing in the next room, and then
talking to the maid. When he entered the sitting-room the girl came out,
and he saw that there were tears in her eyes. He went in and looked
sharply at Julie; there was a suspicion of moisture in hers also. "Oh,
Peter," she said, and took him by the arm as the door closed, "why didn't
you tell me about Jack? I'm going out immediately after breakfast to buy
her the b