He could not hold himself in. He could not carry away such a secret.
Sophie went to the door with him; and he took her outside and
whispered it to her.
The child stared at him, with awe in her eyes. "Samuel!" she
whispered, "she must mean to marry you!"
The boy started in dismay. "Marry me!" he gasped. "Marry me!"
"Why, yes!" said Sophie. "What else can she mean?"
That was a poser. "But--but--" he cried. "It's absurd!"
"It's not, Samuel! She loves you!"
"But I'm nothing but a poor boy!"
"But, Samuel, she has plenty of money!"
It had not occurred to Samuel that way; but he had to admit that it
was true. "But I'm not good enough," he protested.
"You are good enough for anyone!" cried Sophie. "You are noble and
beautiful--and she has found it out. And she means to stoop and lift
you up to her."
The boy was silent, stricken with awe. "Oh, Samuel, it is just like in
the fairy stories!" whispered the child. "You are to be the prince!"
So she went on, pouring out the wonder of it to him, and thrilling his
soul to yet new flights.
He left her at last and walked down the street half dazed. He was to
marry Miss Gladys! Yes, it must be true, for she had told him that she
loved him! And then, presumably, he would come to live in that great
palace. How could he ever stand it? What would he do?
And he would be a rich man! A great surge of triumph came to him.
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