"
"That is not a very timid declaration," said Beatrice with a
smile. "You are courageous, Mr. Laurence. I have only seen you
three times."
"It would make no difference," said Gaspar, "whether I had seen
you only once, or whether I met you every day. I am not going to
pain you, Miss Earle. Think kindly of me--I do not ask more;
only remember that living in this world there is one who would
stand between you and all peril--who would sacrifice his life
for you. You will not forget?"
"I will not,"said Beatrice, firmly. "Never could I forget such
words. I am willing to be your friend--I know how to value
you."
"I shall be happier with your friendship than with the love of
any other woman," said Gaspar, gratefully.
Just then Lord Earle came and took Mr. Laurence away. Beatrice
stood where he had left her, half screened from sight by the
luxuriant foliage and magnificent flowers of a rare American
plant. There was a thoughtful, tender expression on her face
that softened it into wondrous beauty. She liked Gaspar, and was
both pleased and sorry that he loved her. Very pleasant was this
delicious homage of love--pleasant was it to know that strong,
brave, gifted men laid all they had in the world at her feet--to
know that her looks, smiles, and words moved them as nothing else
could.
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