“Florence, do you love me?  I shall go mad if you will not answer.”  He seized her hand as he leant forward, and gazed eagerly into her face, while he trembled violently with his own emotion.  “Do you love me—­say?”

“I think, I think—­I do,” she said very softly, looking him full in the face, while he seized her round the waist, and her head leant for one moment on his shoulder, and he kissed her forehead.

She started up, saying, “Oh, do let me go, please.  I ought not to have said so.”

He rose first, and lifted her up by the hand.

* * * * *

“I will tell you what it is, Hawkstone,” said Glenville.  “I think it is a d—–­d shame, and I shall tell him so.  He may be a bigger fellow than I, but I could punch his head for him, if he were in the wrong and I in the right.”

“I dare say you could, sir, and thank you, sir, for what you say.  I thought you were a brave, kind gentleman when I first saw you, though you do like to have a bit of a joke at me at times.”

“Bit of a joke!  That’s another matter.  But I will never joke again, if this goes wrong.  But are you quite sure that Nelly is in love with you really, and you with her.”

“Why, sir, we have told each other so this hundred times; and I feel as sure she spoke the truth as God knows I did; and sometimes I think I am a fool to doubt her now.  But you see, sir, she is flattered by the notice of a grand gentleman.  It may be nothing, but, when I talk to her now, she seems weary like.  It is not like what it was in the old days before you came, sir.  We were to be married, sir, so soon as the gentle folk have left the town, that is about six weeks from to-day; but now I hardly know what to think.  I think one thing one day, and another the next.  Sometimes I think I am jealous about nothing.  Sometimes I think he is a gentleman, and will act as such; and sometimes I think, suppose he should harm her; and then I feel that if he dared to do it I would throttle him.”  Glenville could see the sailor’s fists clenching as he spoke, and he replied, “Hush, Hawkstone, hush!  This will all come right.  I feel for you very much, but you must not be violent.  I believe it is all folly, and Barton will forget all about it in a day or two.”

“May be, may be, sir; but will she forget so soon?  When a woman gets a thing of this sort into her head it sticks there, sir.  There is nothing to drive it out.  He will go off among his fine friends in London, or wherever it is; but she will be alone here in the little dull town, and it is mighty dull in the winter, sir.”

“You see, Hawkstone, Barton is a friend of mine; and, though I have only known him a couple of years, I am sure he is a generous, good sort of fellow, and honest and truthful, though a bit thoughtless and careless.  I am sure he will see his own folly and bad conduct when it is shown to him.  This is a sham love of his.  She is a very pretty girl, it is true.  You won’t mind my saying that?”