Frederick Fraylir and Emma had stayed in the office after the others
had gone. There was some work that had to be copied and they were
going to have dinner together. As Emma slipped the last page from the
typewriter, Frederick bent over her.
“Little girl,” he said, “do you know that I care very much for you?”
Emma closed her eyes. She was afraid to say anything. Why couldn’t
things have kept on—the way they were? Her heart was beating rather
rapidly. She had never thought about that.
“Don’t you care, a little?” Frederick went on. “You must have known,
how I felt, all these weeks.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Emma. She suddenly remembered that
that was the right answer, though she was afraid that she had put it in
the wrong place.
“Why, I mean,” said Frederick, “that I love you. I’ve cared for you
from the first. It’s hard to say—for an old fellow like me. You are so
innocent, so sweet. You are so little and alone and unprotected. I love
you, I want to—”
Well, so it was over! “What about Mrs. Fraylir?” interrupted Emma. Mrs.
Fraylir had never been brought into their conversation before. The
words seemed to choke Emma a little.
“Why, dear, she likes you too. She told Edward that as long as I felt
this way, she hoped you liked me. She wanted to talk to you when she
came to the office, but she was afraid she’d say the wrong thing, as
long as I hadn’t said anything to you. I know you’ll like her, though.
Edward and she will be glad they won’t have to bother with me, I guess.
Ever since they’ve been married, over seven years, I’ve lived with
them. They said they wanted me, but I guess they’ll be glad if—” he
paused.
“Ever since they’ve been married?” repeated Emma, mechanically. “I
thought, why I thought—”
Frederick misunderstood her.
“Oh, yes,” he said, “seven years, and I’d like a home of my own. We can
be married whenever you say the word, if you love me a little and I’m
not too old. I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time, wanted to offer
you a real home, wanted you to stop work, but you were so young, so
unaccustomed to the world. I wanted you to know me and like me a little
first, so that I wouldn’t frighten you when I proposed. You’re the
kind of a girl I’ve always been looking for, a simple, small-town girl
with pure thoughts about things. You’ll marry me, won’t you, dear?”
And Emma, quite overcome, put her head on his shoulder and wept a
little and said she thought she would. After all, she was all alone in
the city and only a little country girl.