'Why should
she have refused the one I first chose?' he now asked himself.
Even such slight opposition as she had shown then was exceptional
enough to make itself noticeable. He was not vexed with her in
the least: the mere variation of her way to-day from her usual
ways kept him musing on the subject, because it perplexed him.
'It was a gift'--those were her words. Admitting it to be a gift,
he thought she could hardly value a mere friend more than she
valued him as a lover, and giving the plant into his charge would
have made no difference. 'Except, indeed, it was the gift of a
lover,' he murmured.
'I wonder if Elfride has ever had a lover before?' he said aloud,
as a new idea, quite. This and companion thoughts were enough to
occupy him completely till he fell asleep--rather later than
usual.
The next day, when they were again alone, he said to her rather
suddenly--
'Do you love me more or less, Elfie, for what I told you on board
the steamer?'
'You told me so many things,' she returned, lifting her eyes to
his and smiling.
'I mean the confession you coaxed out of me--that I had never been
in the position of lover before.'
'It is a satisfaction, I suppose, to be the first in your heart,'
she said to him, with an attempt to continue her smiling.
'I am going to ask you a question now,' said Knight, somewhat
awkwardly. 'I only ask it in a whimsical way, you know: not with
great seriousness, Elfride.
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