Herminia's heart gave a delicious bound. She was a woman, and
therefore she was glad he should speak so. She was a woman, and
therefore she shrank from acknowledging it. But she looked him
back in the face tranquilly, none the less on that account, and
answered with sweet candor, "Thank you so much, Mr. Merrick."
"_I_ said 'Herminia,'" the young man corrected, smiling, yet aghast
at his own audacity.
"And I thanked you for it," Herminia answered, casting down those
dark lashes, and feeling the heart throb violently under her neat
bodice.
Alan drew a deep breath. "And it was THAT you thanked me for," he
ejaculated, tingling.
"Yes, it was that I thanked you for," Herminia answered, with a
still deeper rose spreading down to her bare throat. "I like you
very much, and it pleases me to hear you call me Herminia. Why
should I shrink from admitting it? 'Tis the Truth, you know; and
the Truth shall make us Free. I'm not afraid of my freedom."
Alan paused for a second, irresolute. "Herminia," he said at last,
leaning forward till his face was very close to hers, and he could
feel the warm breath that came and went so quickly; "that's very,
very kind of you. I needn't tell you I've been thinking a great
deal about you these last three weeks or so. You have filled my
mind; filled it to the brim, and I think you know it."
Philosopher as she was, Herminia plucked a blade of grass, and drew
it quivering through her tremulous fingers. It caught and
hesitated. "I guessed as much, I think," she answered, low but
frankly.
The young man's heart gave a bound. "And YOU, Herminia?" he asked,
in an eager ecstasy.
Herminia was true to the Truth. "I've thought a great deal about
you too, Mr. Merrick," she answered, looking down, but with a great
gladness thrilling her.
"I said 'Herminia,'" the young man repeated, with a marked stress
on the Christian name.
Herminia hesitated a second. Then two crimson spots flared forth
on her speaking face, as she answered with an effort, "About you
too, Alan."
The young man drew back and gazed at her.
She was very, very beautiful. "Dare I ask you, Herminia?" he cried.
"Have I a right to ask you? Am I worthy of you, I mean? Ought I to
retire as not your peer, and leave you to some man who could rise
more easily to the height of your dignity?"