while. And then, having
made his offer, he began to speak of love. In speaking of it, he was
urgent enough, but his words had not that sort of suasiveness which
they would have possessed had he been addressing himself to Clary
Underwood. "Polly," he said, "I hope you can love me. I will love you
very dearly, and do all that I can to make you happy. To me you shall
be the first woman in the world. Do you think that you can love me,
Polly?"

Polly was, perhaps, particular. She had not quite approved of the
manner in which Ontario had disclosed his love, though there had been
something of the eloquence of passion even in that;--and now she
was hardly satisfied with Ralph Newton. She had formed to herself,
perhaps, some idea of a soft, insinuating, coaxing whisper, something
that should be half caress and half prayer, but something that should
at least be very gentle and very loving. Ontario was loving, but he
was not gentle. Ralph Newton was gentle, but then she doubted whether
he was loving. "Will you say that it shall be so?" he asked, standing
over her, and looking down upon her with his most bewitching smile.

Polly amidst her blushing and her trembling made up her mind that
she would say nothing of the kind at this present moment. She would
like to be a lady though she was not ashamed of being a tradesman's
daughter;--but she would not buy the privilege of being a lady at too
dear a price. The price would be very high indeed were she to give
herself to a man who did not love her, and perhaps despised her. And
then she was not quite sure that she could love this man herself,
though she was possessed of a facility for liking nice young men.
Ralph Newton was well enough in many ways. He was good looking, he
could speak up for himself, he did not give himself airs,--and then,
as she had been fully instructed by her father, he must ultimately
inherit a large property. Were she to marry him her position would
be absolutely that of one of the ladies of the land. But then she
knew,--she could not but know,--that he sought her because he was in
want of money for his present needs. To be made a lady of the land
would be delightful; but to have a grand passion,--in regard to which
Polly would not be satisfied unless there were as much love on one
side as on the other,--would be more delightful. That latter was
essentially necessary to her. The man must take an absolute pleasure
in her company, or the whole thing would be a fa