It was so simple that it was heartbreaking.

She could not have uttered a word, he was such a powerful and great person, and she was so without help or stay.
Since the occurring of this incident, she has often been spoken of as a beauty, and she has, without doubt, had her fine hours; but Walderhurst has never told her that the most beautiful moment of her life was undoubtedly that in which she stood upon the heather, tall and straight and simple, her hands hanging by her sides, her large, tear-filled hazel eyes gazing straight into his.

In the femininity of her frank defencelessness there was an appeal to nature's self in man which was not quite of earth.

And for several seconds they stood so and gazed into each other's souls--the usually unilluminated nobleman and the prosaic young woman who lodged on a third floor back in Mortimer Street.
Then, quite quickly, something was lighted in his eyes, and he took a step toward her.
"Good heavens!" he demanded.

"What do you suppose I am asking of you ?" "I don't--know," she answered; "I don't--know." "My good girl," he said, even with some irritation, "I am asking you to be my wife.