"Consider yourself loved," he burst out, "without any limits at all."

It was all over--the words were spoken--he had got her by the hand.
Again the perversity of the tender passion showed itself more strongly
than ever. The confession which Blanche had been longing to hear, had
barely escaped her lover's lips before Blanche protested against it! She
struggled to release her hand. She formally appealed to Arnold to let
her go.

Arnold only held her the tighter.

"Do try to like me a little!" he pleaded. "I am so fond of _you!_"

Who was to resist such wooing as this?--when you were privately fond of
him yourself, remember, and when you were certain to be interrupted in
another moment! Blanche left off struggling, and looked up at her young
sailor with a smile.

"Did you learn this method of making love in the merchant-service?" she
inquired, saucily.

Arnold persisted in contemplating his prospects from the serious point
of view.

"I'll go back to the merchant-service," he said, "if I have made you
angry with me."

Blanche administered another dose of encouragement.

"Anger, Mr. Brinkworth, is one of the bad passions," she answered,