"All," I cried; "and yet, Heaven knows, I am not worth it. I am no man
to capture a fair girl's heart. My face is rude and my speech harsh,
and I am damnably prosaic. I have not Ringan's fancy, or Grey's
gallantry; I am sober and tongue-tied and uncouth, and my mind runs
terribly on facts and figures. O Elspeth, I know I am no hero of
romance, but a plain body whom Fate has forced into a month of
wildness. I shall go back to Virginia, and be set once more at my
accompts and ladings. Think well, my dear, for I will have nothing less
than all. Can you endure to spend your days with a homely fellow like
me?"

"What does a woman desire?" she asked, as if from herself, and her
voice was very soft as she gazed over the valley. "Men think it is a
handsome face or a brisk air or a smooth tongue. And some will have it
that it is a deep purse or a high station. But I think it is the honest
heart that goes all the way with a woman's love. We are not so blind as
to believe that the glitter is the gold. We love romance, but we seek
it in its true home. Do you think I would marry you for gratitude,
Andrew?"

"No," I said.

"Or for admiration?"

"No," said I.

"Or for love?"

"Yes," I said, with a sudden joy.