spring it were a sight, what was it in summer glory? But although my
mind had notice of its fairness and its wonder, not a heed my heart took
of it, neither dwelt it in my presence more than flowing water. All
that in my presence dwelt, all that in my heart was felt, was the maiden
moving gently, and afraid to look at me.

For now the power of my love was abiding on her, new to her, unknown to
her; not a thing to speak about, nor even to think clearly; only just to
feel and wonder, with a pain of sweetness. She could look at me no more,
neither could she look away, with a studied manner--only to let fall her
eyes, and blush, and be put out with me, and still more with herself.

I left her quite alone; though close, though tingling to have hold of
her. Even her right hand was dropped and lay among the mosses. Neither
did I try to steal one glimpse below her eyelids. Life and death to me
were hanging on the first glance I should win; yet I let it be so.

After long or short--I know not, yet ere I was weary, ere I yet began
to think or wish for any answer--Lorna slowly raised her eyelids, with
a gleam of dew below them, and looked at me doubtfully. Any look with so
much in it never met my gaze before.

'Darling, do you love me?' was all that I could say to her.

'Yes, I like you very much,' she answered, with her eyes gone from me,
and her dark hair falling over, so as not to show me things.

'But do you love me, Lorna, Lorna; do you love me more than all the
world?'

'No, to be sure not. Now why should I?'

'In truth, I know not why you should. Only I hoped that you did, Lorna.
Either love me not at all, or as I love you for ever.'

'John I love you very much; and I would not grieve you. You are the
bravest, and the kindest, and the simplest of all men--I mean of all
people--I like you very much, Master Ridd, and I think of you almost
every day.'

'That will not do for me, Lorna. Not almost every day I think, but every
instant of my life, of you. For you I would give up my home, my love of
all the world beside, my duty to my dearest ones, for you I would give
up my life, and hope of life beyond it. Do you love me so?'

'Not by any means,' said Lorna; 'no, I like you very much, when you do
not talk so wildly; and I like to see you come as if you would fill our
valley up, and I like to think that even Carver would be nothing in
your hands--but as to liking you like that, what should make it likely?
especially w