nd feelings since the
very first day of our meeting, it occurred to me that he was holding my
hands too--both of them. I am not sure he hadn't been doing it for some
time before I found out, but it was his kissing the hands which brought
me to myself.

It seemed too extraordinary that Brown should be doing that--almost as
if I were dreaming. And to be perfectly frank with myself, it was an
exquisite dream; because such strange things can happen in dreams, and
you don't seem to mind a bit. Luckily, he didn't know this; and I
snatched my hands away, exclaiming: "Mr. Winston!"

"Don't call me that," he begged. "Call me Brown."

"But you are not Brown."

"I love you just as much as when I was Brown, and more. If you only knew
what thousands of times I have longed to tell you, and the heavenly
relief it is to do it at last!"

"You have no more right now. Less, even; for Brown _seemed_ honest."

"If Brown had forgotten himself, and--and kissed the hem of your dress,
what would you have done?"

"I--don't know," was my feeble answer.

"You would have sent him away."

"No--I don't think I could have done that. I--I depended on Brown so
much. I used--to wonder how I should ever get on without him."

"Don't get on without him. I'll be your _chauffeur_ all my days, if
those are the only terms on which you'll take me back. But are there no
other terms? What I want is--"

"What?" I couldn't resist asking when he paused.

"Everything!"

Something in his face, his eyes, his voice--his whole self, I
suppose--carried me off my feet into deep water. I just let myself go, I
was so frightfully happy. I knew now that I had been in love with Brown
for months and had been miserable and restless because he was--only
Brown.

I heard myself saying: "I do forgive you."

"And love me--a little?"

"No; not a little."

Then he caught me in his arms, though at any moment someone might have
passed the summer-house door and seen us. He didn't think of that,
apparently, and neither did I at the time. I thought only of
Brown--Brown--Brown. There was nobody in the world but Brown.

I don't think I precisely said in so many words that I would be engaged
to him, though he may have taken that for granted in the end; and if I
did give a wrong impression, I had no time to correct it, for it seemed
that we had been talking about the future and such things no more than a
minute, when Dad came sauntering by with Lady Brighthelmston.

They