He put out his hand and touched her. "Marie," he said, "will you deny
me if I ask?"
"Nay, my lord; how shall I say? There is many a trifle I would deny
you. There is many a great gift I would give you willingly."
"But the greatest gift of all?"
"My lord, if you have anything to say, you must say it plainly. There
never was a woman worse than I am at the reading of riddles."
"Could you endure to live in the quietude of an Italian lake with an
old man?" Now he touched her again, and had taken her hand.
"No, my lord;--nor with a young one,--for all my days. But I do not
know that age would guide me."
Then the Duke rose and made his proposition in form. "Marie, you know
that I love you. Why it is that I at my age should feel so sore a
love, I cannot say."
"So sore a love!"
"So sore, if it be not gratified. Marie, I ask you to be my wife."
"Duke of Omnium, this from you!"
"Yes, from me. My coronet is at your feet. If you will allow me to
raise it, I will place it on your brow."
Then she went away from him, and seated herself at a distance. After
a moment or two he followed her, and stood with his arm upon her
shoulder. "You will give me an answer, Marie?"
"You cannot have thought of this, my lord."
"Nay; I have thought of it much.
Pages:
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854