and I will give you a kiss

But her finger was now more tasteful than common. Her mind was probably wrought up to a firmer and bolder tone, by the recollection of the cause she was going to plead; at the same time that it was exempt from those incapacitating tremors which would have been felt by one that dared not look poverty in the face. Mr. Tyrrel was unable to leave the apartment. Sometimes he traversed it with impatient steps; then he hung over the poor innocent whose powers were exerted to please him; at length he threw himself in a chair opposite, with his eyes turned towards Emily. It was easy to trace the progress of his emotions. The furrows into which his countenance was contracted were gradually relaxed; his features were brightened into a smile; the kindness with which he had upon former occasions contemplated Emily seemed to revive in his heart. Emily watched her opportunity. As soon as she had finished one of the pieces, she rose and went to Mr. Tyrrel. “Now, have not I done it nicely? and after this will not you give me a reward?” “A reward! Ay, come here, and I will give you a kiss.” “No, that is not it. And yet you have not kissed me this many a day. Formerly you said you loved me, and called me your Emily. I am sure you did not love me better than I loved you. You have not forgot all the kindness you once had for me?” added she anxiously. “Forgot? No, no. How can you ask such a question? You shall be my dear Emily still!” “Ah, those were happy times!” she replied, a little mournfully. “Do you know, cousin, I wish I could wake, and find that the last month — only about a month — was a dream?” “What do you mean by that?” said Mr. Tyrrel with an altered voice. “Have a care! Do not put me out of humour. Do not come with your romantic notions now.” “No, no: I have no romantic notions in my head. I speak of something upon which the happiness of my life depends.”