Seriously, I believe I am much stronger than you have the least notion
of. There! Feel that arm--I should let you feel it another way, only I
am afraid of hurting you."
She had turned up the sleeve of her dress, and uncovered a grandly
developed arm, white as milk, and blossoming in a large, splendidly
formed hand. Then playfully, but oh! so tenderly, with the under and
softest part of her arm she fondled his face, rubbing it over first one,
then the other cheek, and ended with both arms round his neck, her hands
folding his head to her bosom.
"Wife! wife!" faltered Hector, with difficulty controlling himself; "my
strong, beautiful wife! To think of your marrying me for this!"
"Hector," answered Annie, drawing herself back with dignity, "do you
dare to pity me? That would be to insult me! As if I was not fit to be
your wife when doing _everything_ for my mother! There are
thousands of Scotch girls that would only be proud to take my place,
poor as you are--and you couldn't be much poorer--and serve you, without
being your wife, as I have the honor and pride to be! But, my blessed
man, I do believe you have eaten nothing to-day; and here am I fancying
myself your wife, and letting you stand there empty, instead of
bestirring myself to get you some supper! What a shame! Why, you are
actually dying with hunger!" she cried, searching his face with pitiful
eyes.
"On the contrary, I am not in the least hungry," protested Hector.
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