"Elnora," he said, "Will you be my wife?"
"I must have a little more time," she whispered. "I must be absolutely
certain, for when I say yes, and give myself to you, only death shall
part us. I would not give you up. So I want a little more time--but, I
think I will."
"Thank you," said Philip. "If at any time you feel that you have reached
a decision, will you tell me? Will you promise me to tell me instantly,
or shall I keep asking you until the time comes?"
"You make it difficult," said Elnora. "But I will promise you that.
Whenever the last doubt vanishes, I will let you know instantly--if I
can."
"Would it be difficult for you?" whispered Ammon.
"I--I don't know," faltered Elnora.
"It seems as if I can't be man enough to put this thought aside and give
up this afternoon," said Philip. "I am ashamed of myself, but I can't
help it. I am going to ask God to make that last doubt vanish before I
go this night. I am going to believe that ring will plead for me. I am
going to hope that doubt will disappear suddenly. I will be watching.
Every second I will be watching. If it happens and you can't speak,
give me your hand. Just the least movement toward me, I will understand.
Would it help you to talk this over with your mother? Shall I call her?
Shall I----?"
Honk! Honk! Honk! Hart Henderson set the horn of the big automobile
going as it shot from behind the trees lining the Brushwood road. The
picture of a vine-covered cabin, a large drooping tree, a green-clad
girl and a man bending over her very closely flashed into view.
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