Bessie stood with a polite look of expectation on her face, and waited.

"I was going to say--that, in short, that I want to marry you!"

"Oh!" exclaimed Bessie with a start.

"Listen," he went on hoarsely, his words gathering force as he spoke, as
is the way even with uncultured people when they speak from the heart.
"Listen! I love you, Bessie; I have loved you for three years. Every
time I have seen you I have loved you more. Don't say me nay--you don't
know how I do love you. I dream of you every night; sometimes I dream
that I hear your dress rustling, then you come and kiss me, and it is
like being in heaven."

Here Bessie made a gesture of disgust.

"There, I have offended you, but don't be angry with me. I am very rich,
Bessie; there is the place here, and then I have four farms in Lydenburg
and ten thousand _morgen_ up in Waterberg, and a thousand head of
cattle, besides sheep and horses and money in the bank. You shall have
everything your own way," he went on, seeing that the inventory of his
goods did not appear to impress her--"everything--the house shall be
English fashion; I will build a new _sit-kammer_ (sitting-room) and it
shall be furnished from Natal. There, I love you, I say. You won't say
no, will you?" and he caught her by the hand.

"I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Muller," answered Bessie, snatching
away her hand, "but--in short, I cannot marry you. No, it is no use, I
cannot indeed. There, please say no more--here comes my uncle. Forget
all about it, Mr. Muller."