The Squire saw it, and began to speak again in the same low measured voice, as though he groped his way along, from point to point.

He sat with his eyes on the floor, his hands loosely clasped before him.
'I don't, of course, dare to ask you to say--at once--if you will be my wife.

I dread to ask it--for I am tolerably certain that you would still say no.

But if only now you would say, "I will go on with my work here--I will help a man who is weak where I am strong--I will show him new points of view--give him new reasons for living--"' Elizabeth could only just check the sobs in her throat.

The sad humility of the words pierced her heart.
The Squire raised himself a little, and spoke more firmly.
'Why should there be any change yet awhile?
Only stay with us.