He wished her to understand him, to know all about
him,--what he was, what he hoped to be. A boy in love is like that.
In return for this confidence Nancy explained that she hated
oatmeal, and Hannah More; some of these days she meant to buy every
copy of Hannah More she could lay her hands on, and burn them. Of
herself, her past, she said nothing.
"And so you're going to be a doctor!" she turned the conversation
back to him, as being much more interesting.
"Yes. Or rather, I'm going to be a great surgeon." And then he
asked, smilingly:
"And you--what do _you_ want to be?"
"I want to be happy," said Nancy, half fiercely.
"There isn't any reason why you shouldn't be--a girl like you."
Nancy looked a bit doubtful. But no, he wasn't poking fun. And after
a pause, he asked, as one putting himself to the test:
"Miss Anne--Nancy--do you think you could be happy--with _me_?"
"_You_?" breathed Nancy, all a-tremble. She thought she could be
happier with Glenn than with anybody else. Why! there _wasn't_
anybody else! That is, nobody that cared.
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