That faint, fugitive smile of hers went over her face.  She took her hand from the door.

“You—­you haven’t been very—­explicit, have you?” she said.  “Are you—­are you being just kind to me, Mr. Ironside, like—­like Hugh Chesyl?”

Her voice quivered as she asked the question, but her eyes met his with direct steadfastness.

He lowered his own very suddenly.  “No,” he said.  “I wouldn’t insult you by being kind.  I shouldn’t ask you to marry me if I didn’t love you with all my heart and soul.”

The words came quickly, with something of a burning quality.  She made a slight movement as if she were taken by surprise.

After a moment she spoke.  “There are two kinds of love,” she said.  “There’s the big, unselfish kind—­the real thing; and there’s the other—­the kind that demands everything, and even then, perhaps, is never satisfied.  You hardly know me well enough to—­to care for me in the first big way, do you?  You don’t even know if I’m worth it.”

“I beg your pardon,” said Jeff Ironside.  “I think I do know you well enough for that.  Anyhow, if you could bring yourself to marry me, I should be satisfied.  The right to take care of you—­make you comfortable—­wait on you—­that’s all I’m asking.  That would be enough for me—­more than I’ve dared to hope for.”

“That would make you happy?” she asked.

He kept his eyes lowered.  “It would be—­enough,” he repeated.

She uttered a sudden quick sigh.  “But wouldn’t you rather marry a woman who was in love with you in just the ordinary way?” she said.

“No,” said Jeff curtly.

“It would be much better for you,” she protested.

He smiled a grim smile.  “I am the best judge of that,” he said.

She held out her hand to him.  “Mr. Ironside, tell me honestly, wouldn’t you despise me if I married you in that way—­taking all and giving nothing?”

He crushed her hand in his.  The red blood rose to his forehead.  He looked at her for a moment—­only a moment—­and instantly looked away again.

“No,” he said, “I shouldn’t.”

“I should despise myself,” said Doris.

“I don’t know why you should,” he said.

She smiled again with lips that quivered.  “No, you don’t understand.  You’re too big for me altogether.  I can’t say ‘Yes,’ but I feel very highly honoured all the same.  You’ll believe that, won’t you?”

“Why can’t you say ’Yes’?” asked Jeff.

She hesitated momentarily.  “You see, I’m afraid I don’t care for you—­like that,” she said.

“Does that matter?” said Jeff.

She looked at him, her hand still in his.  “Don’t you think so?”

“No, I don’t,” he said, “unless you think you couldn’t be happy.”

“I was thinking of you,” she said gently.

“Of me?” He looked surprised for an instant, and again his eyes met hers in a quick glance.  “If you’re going to think of me,” he said, “you’ll do it.  I have told you, you needn’t be afraid of my expecting too much.”