You know we hate to wear our hearts on our sleeves."
"I don't blame ye. Ye'd wear them out too soon, maybe."
Alaric felt that the moment had now really come.
"Cousin," he said, and his voice dropped to the caressing note of a
wooer: "Cousin! Do you know I am going to do something now I've
never done before?"
He paused to let the full force of what was to come have its real
value.
"What is it, Alaric?" Peg asked, all unconscious of the drama that
was taking place in her cousin's heart! "Sure, what is it? Ye're not
goin' to do somethin' USEFUL, are ye?"
He braced himself and went on: "I am going to ask a very charming
young lady to marry me. Eh?"
"ARE ye?"
"I am."
"What do ye think o' that, now!"
"And--WHO--DO--YOU--THINK--IT--IS?"
He waited, wondering if she would guess correctly. It would be so
helpful if only she could.
But she was so unexpected.
"I couldn't guess it in a hundred years, Alaric. Ralely, I
couldn't."
"Oh, TRY! Do. TRY!" he urged. "I couldn't think who'd marry YOU--
indade I couldn't. Mebbe the poor girl's BLIND. Is THAT it?"
"Can't you guess? No? Really?"
"NO, I'm tellin' ye. Who is it?"
"YOU!"
The moment had come. The die was cast. His life was in the hands of
Fate--and of Peg.
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