"Do you
remember? You wanted to kiss it, but the little fool didn't understand."
A slight quiver went through Ernestine. Again rather breathlessly, she
laughed.
"Some little fools don't," she said.
He moved and very gently slipped his arm about her. "I didn't mean to
put it quite like that," he said. "You will pardon my clumsiness, won't
you?"
She did not resist his arm, but neither did she yield to it. Her hand
still fidgeted upon his shoulder.
"I wish you wouldn't be so horribly nice to me," she said suddenly.
"My dear Chirpy!"
"Yes," she said with vehemence. "Why don't you take what you want? I--I
should respect you then."
"But I want you to love me," he answered quietly.
She drew a quick breath, and became suddenly quite rigid, intensely
still.
His arm grew a little closer about her.
"Don't you know I am in love with you, Chirpy?" he asked her very
softly. "Am I such a dunderhead that I haven't made that plain?"
"Are you?" she said, a sharp catch in her voice. "Are you?" Abruptly she
stooped to him. "Knight Errant," she said, and the words fell swift and
passionate, "would you have really wanted to marry me--anyway?"
His face was upturned to hers. He could feel her breathing, sharp and
short, upon his lips.
"My dear," he said, "I have wanted to marry you ever since that
afternoon you met me in St. Paul's."
He would have risen with the words, but she made a quick movement
downwards to prevent him, and suddenly she was on her knees before him
with her arms about his neck.
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