He was pleased, too, though very much surprised, to find that she did not seem conscious of his intention (a most lovely blush had spread itself over her face when she spoke of her husband), but so far from expecting what he was just about to say, she had thrown him back in his progress more than once—­she did not seem to be expecting anything.  “And yet, I have said a good deal,” he reflected; “I have let her know that I expect to inspire no romantic love, and do not pretend to be in love with her.  I come forward admiring, trusting, and preferring her to any other woman; though I cannot come as a lover to her feet.”  He began to talk again.  Emily was a little startled to find him in a few minutes alluding to his domestic discomforts, and his intention of standing for the borough.  He had now a little red box in his hand, and when she said, “John, I wish you would not stand there,” he came and sat nearly opposite to her, and showed her what was in it—­his father’s diamond ring.  She remembered it, no doubt; he had just had the diamond reset.  Emily took out the ring, and laid it in her palm.  “It looks small,” she said.  “I should not have thought it would fit you, John.”

“Will you let me try if it will fit you?” he answered; and, before she had recovered from her surprise, he had put it on her finger.

There was a very awkward pause, and then she drew it off.  “You can hardly expect me,” she said, and her hand trembled a little, “to accept such a very costly present.”  It was not her reason for returning it, but she knew not what to say.

“I would not ask it,” he replied, “unless I could offer you another.  I desire to make you my wife.  I beg you to accept my hand.”

“Accept your hand!  What, now? directly? today?” she exclaimed almost piteously, and tears trembled on her eye-lashes.

“Yes,” he answered, repeating her words with something like ardour.  “Now, directly, to-day.  I am sorely in want of a wife, and would fain take you home as soon as the bans would let me.  Emily?”

“Why you have been taking all possible pains to let me know that you do not love me in the least, and that, as far as you foresee, you do not mean to love me,” she answered, two great tears falling on his hand when he tried to take hers.  “John! how dare you!”

She was not naturally passionate, but startled now into this passionate appeal, she snatched away her hand, rose in haste, and drew back from him with flashing eyes and a heaving bosom; but all too soon the short relief she had found in anger was quenched in tears that she did not try to check.  She stood and wept, and he, very pale and very much discomfited, sat before her in his place.

“I beg your pardon,” he presently said, not in the least aware of what this really meant.  “I beg—­I entreat your pardon.  I scarcely thought—­forgive my saying it—­I scarcely thought, considering our past—­and—­and—­my position, as the father of a large family, that you would have consented to any wooing in the girl and boy fashion.  You make me wish, for once in my life—­yes, very-heartily wish, that I had been less direct, less candid,” he added rather bitterly.  “I thought”—­here Emily heard him call himself a fool—­“I thought you would approve it.”