While she sought for this papaer, her very heart-pulse was arrested by the tone in which Mr. Thornton spoke. His voice was hoarse, and trembling with tender passion as he said: "Margaret!".
For an istant she looked up; and then sought to veil her luminous eyes by dropping her forehead on her hands. Again, stepping nearer, he besought her with another tremulous eager call upon her name.
"Margaret!"
Still lower went the head; more closely hidden was the face, almost resting on the table before her. He came close to her, He knelt by her side, to bring his face to a level with her ear; and whispered - panted out the words-: "Take care -If you do not speak - I shall claim you as my own in some strange presumptuous way. - Send me away at once, if I must go; - Margaret!"
At that third call she turned her face, still covered with her small white hands, towards him, and laid it on his shoulder, hiding it even here; it was too delicious to feel her soft cheek against his, for him to wish to see either deep blushes or loving eyes. He clasped her close. But they both keep silence. At lenght she murmured in a broken voice:
"Oh Mr. Thornton, Im not good enough!"