Amanda: A Daughter of the Mennonites - Page 58/147

"Amanda," he lost no time in broaching the subject, "I said I have

something to tell you. I meant, to ask you."

"Yes? What is it?"

"Will you marry me?"

Before the astonished girl could answer, he put his arms about her and

drew her near, as though there could be no possibility of an

unfavorable reply.

She flung away from him, indignant. "Lyman," she said, with hot anger

in her voice, "you better wait once till I say yes before you try

that!"

"Why, Amanda! Now, sweetheart, none of that temper! You can't get cross

when I ask you anything like that! I want to marry you. I've always

wanted it. I picked you for my sweetheart when we were both children.

I've always thought you're the dandiest girl I could find. Ever since

we were kids I've planned of the time when we were old enough to marry.

I just thought to-night, when I saw several fellows looking at you as

though they'd like to have you, I better get busy and ask you before

some other chap turns your head. I'll be good to you and treat you

right, Amanda. Of course, I'm in college yet, but I'll soon be through,

and then I expect to get a good position, probably in some big city.

We'll get out of this slow country section and live where there's some

life and excitement. You know I'll be rich some day, and then you'll

have everything you want. Come on, honey, tell me, are we engaged?"

"Well, I should say not!" the girl returned with cruel frankness. "You

talk as though I were a piece of furniture you could just walk into a

store and select and buy and then own! You've been taking immeasurably

much for granted if you have been thinking all those things you just

spoke about."

"But what don't you like about me?" The young man was unable to grasp

the fact that his loyal love could be unrequited. "I'm decent."

"Well, that's very important, but there's more than that necessary when

two persons think of marrying. You asked me,--I'll tell you--I never

cared for you. I don't like your principles, your way of sneering at

poor people, your laxity in many things--"

"For instance?" he asked.

"For instance: the way you spelled stelliform to-night and won a prize

for it."

"Oh, that!" He laughed as though discovered in a huge joke. "Did you

see that? Why, that was nothing. It was only a cheap book I got for the

prize. I'll give the book back to you if that will square me in your

eyes."

"But don't you see, can't you see, it wasn't the cheap book that

mattered? It's the thought that you'd be dishonest, a cheat."

"Well," he snatched at the least straw, "here's your chance to reform

me. If you marry me I'll be a different person. I'd do anything for

you. You know love is a great miracle worker. Won't you give me a

chance to show you how nearly I can live up to your standards and

ideals?"