"Phyllis, my sweetheart," I said, with almost a tremor in my voice, "it is a fortnight now since I spoke to you. You have had plenty of time to consider our position. Have you regretted giving me your love?"
We came to a standstill, and leant over a case together, but what it contained I'm sure I haven't the very vaguest idea.
She looked up into my face with a sweet smile.
"Not for one single instant, Dick! Having once given you my love, is it likely I should want it back again?"
"I don't know. Somehow I can't discover sufficient reason for your giving it to me at all."
"Well, be sure I'm not going to tell you. You might grow conceited. Isn't it sufficient that I do love you, and that I am not going to give you up, whatever happens."
"More than sufficient," I answered solemnly. "But, Phyllis, don't you think I can induce your father to relent? Surely as a good parent he must be anxious to promote your happiness at any cost of pain to himself."
"I can't understand it at all. He has been so devoted to me all my life that his conduct now is quite inexplicable. Never once has he denied me anything I really set my heart upon, and he always promised me that I should be allowed to marry whomsoever I wished, provided he was a good and honourable man, and one of whom he could in any way approve. And you are that, Dick, or I shouldn't have loved you, I know."
"I don't think I'm any worse than the ordinary run of men, dearest, if I am no better. At any rate I love you with a true and honourable love. But don't you think he will come round in time?"
"I'm almost afraid not. He referred to it only yesterday, and seemed quite angry that I should have dared
