It wears off afterwards--with practice
one gets accustomed to anything.
"Miss Smithers--Augusta," he gasped, "I want to say something to you!"
and he stopped dead.
"Yes, Mr. Meeson," she answered cheerfully, "what is it?"
"I want to tell you"--and again he hesitated.
"What you are going to do about the will?" suggested Augusta.
"No--no; nothing about the will--please don't laugh at me and put me
off!"
She looked up innocently--as much as to say that she never dreamed of
doing either of these things. She had a lovely face, and the glance of
the grey eyes quite broke down the barrier of his fears.
"Oh, Augusta, Augusta," he said, "don't you understand? I love you! I
love you! No woman was ever loved before as I love you. I fell in love
with you the very first time I saw you in the office at Meeson's, when
I had the row with my uncle about you; and ever since then I have got
deeper and deeper in love with you. When I thought that you were
drowned it nearly broke my heart, and often and often I wished that I
were dead, too!"
It was Augusta's turn to be disturbed now, for, though a lady's composure
will stand her in good stead up to the very verge of an affair of this
sort, it generally breaks down _in medias res_.
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