He started, and turned his burning face to her.

"You are very cruel; you are ridiculing me," he said.

"No, I am not, Gregory. What I am saying is plain, matter-of-fact
business. If you are willing to give me your name within three weeks'
time, I am willing to marry you, if not, well. I want nothing more than
your name. That is a clear proposal, is it not?"

He looked up. Was it contempt, loathing, pity, that moved in the eyes
above! He could not tell; but he stooped over the little foot and kissed
it.

She smiled.

"Do you really mean it?" he whispered.

"Yes. You wish to serve me, and to have nothing in return!--you shall have
what you wish." She held out her fingers for Doss to lick. "Do you see
this dog? He licks my hand because I love him; and I allow him to. Where
I do not love I do not allow it. I believe you love me; I too could love
so, that to lie under the foot of the thing I loved would be more heaven
than to lie in the breast of another. Come! let us go. Carry the dog,"
she added; "he will not bite you if I put him in your arms. So--do not let
his foot hang down."

They descended the kopje. At the bottom, he whispered:

"Would you not take my arm? the path is very rough."