Page:The Toll of the Bush.pdf/122
‘And what you said was beautiful and sweet. And why do you love me?’
‘Because you are beautiful and sweet, and because I can’t help it.’
‘Would you like to help it?’
‘No, indeed!’
Lena gazed rapturously at her captive. ‘Tell me some more?’ she cried.
‘That is everything,’ said Robert. ‘I think of you always, and when I say your name to myself I see your eyes. I can always see you quite plainly when I think of you.’
‘Then I must be always with you,’ Lena said, putting two and two together.
‘Yes, all day long.’
‘And you never told me!’—reproachfully.
‘I did not think it would be so easy to tell you.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I was afraid of you.’
‘Oh, you strange boy! Oh, you funny Robert! And you’re not afraid of me any longer?’
‘Yes, I am—a little. It seems too good to be true that you should be glad because I love you, and so I am afraid that it may not be true.’
Lena thought over this. ‘Would you be very sorry if it were not true?’ she asked with experimental curiosity.
‘I should not care what happened to me after I knew that.’
‘But it is true, Robert, it is. Because you love me, I don’t care what happens. I don’t wish any one any harm now, only happiness. I wish every