her
to prostrate himself at her feet, while Roger--

"Hate you!" says Gower, with intense feeling. "Whatever joy or sorrow
comes of this hour, I shall always know that I really _lived_ in the
days when I knew you. My heart, and soul and life, are all yours to do
with as you will. I am completely at your mercy."

"Do not talk to me like that," says Dulce, faintly.

"Darling, let me speak now, once for all. I am not perhaps just what you
would wish me, but _try_ to like me, will you?"

He is so humble in his wooing that he would have touched the hearts of
most women. Dulce grows very pale, and moves a step away from him. A
half-frightened expression comes into her eyes, and shrinking still
farther away, she releases her hand from his grasp.

"You are angry with me," says Stephen, anxiously, trying bravely not to
betray the grief and pain her manner has caused him; "but hear me. I
will be your true lover till my life's end; your will shall be my law.
It will be my dearest privilege to be at your feet forever. Let me be
your slave, your servant, _anything_, but at least yours. I love you!
Say you will marry me some time."

"Oh, no--_no_--NO!" cries she, softly, but vehemently, covering her eyes
with her hands.

"You shall not say that," exclaims he passionately; "why should I not
win my way with you as well as another, now that you say that you are
heart whole. Let me plead my cause?" Here he hesitates, and then plays
his last card. "You tell me you have discarded Roger," he says, slowly;
"when you did so (forgive me), did he appeal against your decision?"

"No," says Dulce, in a tone so low that he can scarcely hear her.

"Forgive me once more," he says, "if I say that he never appreciated
you. And you--where is your pride? Will you not show him now that what
he treated with coldness another is only too glad to give all he has for
in exchange? Think of this, Dulce. If you wished it I would die for
you."

"I almost think I do wish it," says Dulce, with a faint little laugh;
but there is a kindness in her voice new to it, and just once she lifts
her eyes and looks at him shyly, but sweetly.

Profiting by this gleam of sunshine, Gower takes possession of her hand
again and draws her gently towards him.

"You _will_ marry me," he says, "when you think of everything." There is
a meaning in his tone she cannot fail to understand.

"Would you," she says tremulously, "marry a woman who does not care for
you?"

"