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"How can you ask me anything so foolish? Love a beggar!"
"Dora, my own dearest, I am a beggar!"
"How can you be such a silly thing," replied Dora, slapping my hand, "as
to sit there telling such stories? I'll make Jip bite you, if you are so
ridiculous."
But I looked so serious that Dora began to cry. She did nothing but
exclaim, "O dear! O dear!" And oh, she was so frightened! And where was
Julia Mills? And oh, take her to Julia Mills, and go away, please! until
I was almost beside myself.
I thought I had killed her. I sprinkled water on her face; I went down
on my knees; I plucked at my hair; I implored her forgiveness; I
besought her to look up; I ravaged Miss Mills's work-box for a
smelling-bottle, and in my agony of mind, applied an ivory needle-case
instead, and dropped all the needles over Dora.
At last I got Dora to look at me, with a horrified expression which I
gradually soothed until it was only loving, and her soft, pretty cheek
was lying against mine.
"Is your heart mine still, dear Dora?"
"O yes! O yes! it's all yours, oh, don't be dreadful.


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