"Can't you
quite promise yet, my girl of the Limberlost?"
Elnora shook her head. Instantly he released her.
"Forgive me," he begged. "I had no intention of thrusting myself upon
you, but, Elnora, you are the veriest Queen of Love this afternoon. From
the tips of your toes to your shining crown, I worship you. I want no
woman save you. You are so wonderful this afternoon, I couldn't help
urging. Forgive me. Perhaps it was something that came this morning for
you. I wrote Polly to send it. May we try if it fits? Will you tell me
if you like it?"
He drew a little white velvet box from his pocket and showed her a
splendid emerald ring.
"It may not be right," he said. "The inside of a glove finger is not
very accurate for a measure, but it was the best I could do. I wrote
Polly to get it, because she and mother are home from the East this
week, but next they will go on to our cottage in the north, and no
one knows what is right quite so well as Polly." He laid the ring in
Elnora's hand. "Dearest," he said, "don't slip that on your finger; put
your arms around my neck and promise me, all at once and abruptly, or
I'll keel over and die of sheer joy."
Elnora smiled.
"I won't! Not all those venturesome things at once; but, Phil, I'm
ashamed to confess that ring simply fascinates me. It is the most
beautiful one I ever saw, and do you know that I never owned a ring of
any kind in my life? Would you think me unwomanly if I slip it on for
a second, before I can say for sure? Phil, you know I care! I care very
much! You know I will tell you the instant I feel right about it.
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