than "your loving"?

Guy went to bed very early and resolved to wake at dawn that he might
have the hours of the morning for thoughts of Pauline on her birthday.

It was after dawn when Guy woke, for he had fallen asleep very tired
after his week on the river; still it was scarcely six when he came
down into the orchard, and the birds were singing as Guy thought he had
never heard them sing before. The apple-trees were already frilled with
a foam of blossom; and on quivering boughs linnets with breasts
rose-burnt by the winds of March throbbed out their carol. Chaffinches
with flashing prelude of silver wings flourished a burst of song that
broke as with too intolerable a triumph, then sought another tree and
poured forth the triumphant song again. Thrushes, blackbirds, and
warblers quired deep-throated melodies against the multitudinous trebles
of those undistinguished myriads that with choric paean saluted May; and
on sudden diminuendoes could be heard the rustling canzonets of the
goldfinches, rising and falling with reedy cadences.

Guy launched his canoe, which crushed the dewy young grass in its track
and laded the morning with one more fragrance. He paddled down the
mill-stream and, landing presently in the Rectory paddock, now in full
blow with white and purple irises, he went through the wicket into the
garden. When he reached the lily-pond the birds on the lawn flew away
and left it green and empty. He stood entranced, for the hush of the
morning lay on the house, and in the wistaria Pauline's window dreamed,
wide open. Deep in the shrubberies the birds still twittered
incessantly. Why was he not one of these birds, that he might light upon
her sill? Upon Guy's senses stole the imagination of a new fragrance,
that was being shed upon the day by that wide-open window; a fragrance
that might be of flowers growing by the walks of her dreams. And surely
in those flowery dreams he was beside her, since he had lost all sense
of being still on earth. A bee flew out from Pauline's room, an enviable
bee which had been booming with indefinite motion for how long round and
round the white tulips on her sill. Presently another bee flew in; and
Guy's fancy, catching hold of its wings, hovered above Pauline where she
lay sleeping. So sharp was the emotion he had of entering with the bee,
that he was aware of brushing back her light-brown hair to lean down and
kiss her forehead; and when the belfry clock clanged he was star