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Brame, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Monica), 1836-1884

"Dora Thorne"

Could you like me?"
The sweet flushed face was raised to his; he read the happiness
shining in the clear eyes. But she could not speak to him; words
seemed to die upon her lips. Lionel took the little white hands
and clasped them in his own.
"I knew I should frighten you, Lily," he said, gently. "Forgive
me if I have spoken too abruptly. I do not wish you to decide at
once. Take me on trial--see if you can learn to love me weeks,
months, or years hence. I am willing to wait a whole life time
for you, my darling, and should think the time well spent. Will
it be possible for you ever to like me?"
"I like you now," she said, simply.
"Then promise to endeavor to love me," he persisted; "will you,
Lily? I will do anything you wish me; I will try my best to be
half as good as you are. Promise me, darling--my life hangs on
your answer."
"I promise," she said; and he knew how much the words meant.
On the little hand that rested in his own he saw a pretty ring;
it was a large pearl set in gold. Lionel drew it from her
finger.
"I shall take this, Lily," he said; "and, when Beatrice is
married and gone, I shall go to Lord Earle and ask him to give
you to me.


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