‘But now you will stay with me,’ said Laurie, leading her back. She was so much afraid of betraying any signs of trouble, that this time she did not even withdraw her hand. She sat down in the great chair, growing pale, but preserving with a great effort her composure, at least in appearance.
‘This looks very solemn,’ she said, with an attempt at a laugh. ‘What dreadful tale of misdemeanours has your mother-confessor to hear? Have you been robbing an orchard, or running away with a lady? I will put the Suffolks’ story against it, whatever it may be, and grant you absolution. You never did an hour’s work that will give you more pleasure than that. I suspect they had been badly off, much more than they permitted any one to know.’
‘Do you think I care for Suffolk,’ said Laurie, ‘or anybody else? Padrona! you know what I am going to say before I speak. You have found it out as well as I. Don’t you know for months back,--since ever I came here,--there has been but one person in the world for me,--but one! Whatever I have done, it has been to please you;--whatever I have given up, it has been for your sake. Night and day I have been thinking of you,--contriving to get a word from you or a smile. And I tried to make myself believe I could be content with what you give to your friends;--but that delusion is over. Padrona mia, what will you do with me?’ he cried, kneeling down by the arm of her chair.
It never occurred to him that he was kneeling, nor did he intend to kneel. It was but the most practicable way of getting close to her, and seeing into her face. There was something of the pleading look of a child in Laurie’s eyes. He did not make any passionate claim on her, nor appeal; he only put his fate into her hands, with a humility more like the diffidence of age than the equality of love.
Then there was a pause. The padrona was too much overwhelmed, too agitated, to speak. She said--‘For heaven’s sake, Laurie, rise, and do not break my heart!’ and took away her hand which he was still holding; but that was no answer,--rather the reverse.
‘Break your heart!’ he said. ‘I would heal every wound it ever had, if I had the power. I don’t seem to care for anything else in the world. Give me a right to stand by you, to take care of you. Padrona mia, you cannot always do all things, as you are doing, for yourself. Let me be the man to guard you, to labour for you. I don’t know what I am saying, and you don’t answer me one word,--not one word!’