He was deadly pale; his eyes, as they rested on me, had a wild startled look. With icy cold fingers he took my hand, and lifted it in silence to his lips. The sight of his agitation encouraged me--I don't to this day know why, unless it appealed in some way to my compassion. Iwas bold enough to look at him. Still silent, he placed the letters on the table--and then he laid the signed paper beside them. When I saw that, I was bolder still. I spoke first.
"Surely you don't refuse me?" I said.
He answered, "I thank you with my whole heart; I admire you more than words can say. But I can't take it.""Why not?"
"The fortune is yours," he said gently. "Remember how poor I am, and feel for me if I say no more."His head sank on his breast. He stretched out one hand, silently imploring me to understand him. I could endure it no longer. Iforgot every consideration which a woman, in my position, ought to have remembered. Out came the desperate words, before I could stop them.
"You won't take my gift by itself?" I said.
"No."
"Will you take Me with it?"
That evening, Mrs. Fosdyke indulged her sly sense of humor in a new way. She handed me an almanac.
"After all, my dear," she remarked, "you needn't be ashamed of having spoken first. You have only used the ancient privilege of the sex. This is Leap Year."
