But, can't you
learn,--can't you try to learn--If I help you? Brownie,--that's all my
own name for you,--isn't it, you nutbrown maid! Brownie, darling,--you
_must_ love me. I can't bear it if you don't!"
Azalea looked mystified,--then amazed,--and then her face lighted up
with a sudden radiant happiness,--she seemed glorified, exalted.
Van Reypen caught her in his arms.
"You do love me,--you witch! you beauty! Azalea, you look transfigured!
You _do_ love me,--tell me so!"
Then her face changed. She repulsed him,--she sought to leave his
encircling clasp.
"Don't!" she cried, "don't! It is horrible!"
She burst into uncontrollable tears, and her whole frame shook with her
turbulent sorrow.
"Have I been too abrupt?" asked Van Reypen, filled with dismay. "Give me
a little hope, dear, just say you'll let me tell you this some other
time, and I'll not trouble you now."
"Oh, it isn't _that_," Azalea sobbed, "it's--oh, _no_! I _can't_ tell
you,--it's too _dreadful_! Let me go!" and she ran from him and hurried
back to the house and up to her own room.
CHAPTER XVII
PHILIP'S REQUEST
"Give me a few minutes of your valuable time all to myself, will you,
old chap?" Phil said to Farnsworth, as the two men met in the hall just
before the dinner hour.
"Take all you want, I've lots of it," returned the other, cheerily.
"Want to borrow a fiver?"
"No; I'm still able to make both ends meet.
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