I love you, and you shall be my wife." One minute before he spoke the idea had not even crossed his mind; it seemed to him afterward that another voice had spoken by his lips.
"Your wife!" she cried, looking at him in some alarm.

"Ah, no! You are very kind and good, but that could never be." "Why not ?" he asked.
"Because you are so far above me," replied the girl.

"I and mine are servants and dependents of yours.

We are not equal; I must learn to forget you," sobbed Dora, "and break my own heart!" She could not have touched Ronald more deeply; in a moment he had poured forth a torrent of words that amazed her.

Fraternity and equality, caste and folly, his mission and belief, his love and devotion, were all mingled in one torrent of eloquence that simply alarmed her.
"Never say that again, Dora," he continued, his fair, boyish face flushing.