“Hush!” He leaned toward her, and I held my breath.  “You are everything that is best in the world, and I—­what can I offer you?  I have nothing, not even this sanatorium!  No money, no title—­”

“Oh, that!” she interrupted, and stood waiting.  “Well, you—­you could at least offer yourself!”

“Patty!”

She went right over to him and put her hands on his shoulders.

“And if you won’t,” she said, “I’ll offer myself instead!”

His arms went around her like a flash at that, and he kissed her.  I’ve seen a good many kisses in my day, the spring-house walk being a sort of lover’s lane, but they were generally of the quick-get-away variety.  This was different.  He just gathered her up to him and held her close, and if she was one-tenth as much thrilled as I was in the pantry she’d be ready to die kissing.

Then, without releasing her, he raised his head, with such a look of victory in his face that I still see it sometimes in my sleep, and his eye caught mine through the crack.

But if I’d looked to see him drop her I was mistaken.  He drew her up and kissed her again, but this time on the forehead.  And when he’d let her go and she had dropped into a chair and hid her shining face against the back, as if she was ashamed, which she might well be, he stood laughing over her bent head at me.

“Come out, Minnie!” he called.  “Come out and hear the good news!”

“Hear!” I said, “I’ve seen all the news I want.”

“Gracious!” Miss Patty said, and buried her head again.  But he had reached the shameless stage; a man who is really in love always seems to get to that point sooner or later.  He stooped and kissed the back of her neck, and if his hand shook when he pushed in one of her shell hairpins it was excitement and not fright.

“I hardly realize it, Minnie,” he said.  “I don’t deserve her for a minute.”

“Certainly not,” I said.

“He does.”  Miss Patty’s voice smothered.  Then she got up and came over to me.

“There is going to be an awful fuss, Minnie,” she said.  “Think of Aunt Honoria—­and Oskar!”

“Let them fuss!” I said grandly.  “If the worst comes, you can spend your honeymoon in the shelter-house.  I’m so used to carrying meals there now that it’s second nature.”

And at that they both made for me, and as Mr. Pierce kissed me Doctor Barnes opened the door.  He stood for a moment, looking queer and wild, and then he slammed the door and we heard him stamping down the steps.

Mr. Pierce had to bring him back.