"I have nothing further to say: we must each take our own course; as for me, I have lost everything but one thing, and it is not likely that I shall throw that away from me."
"Nor, so help me Heaven in my need! will I let that thing be filched from me. I have offered you kindness and brotherly love, and wealth, and all that friendship could do for a man; give me my way in this, and I will be to you such a comrade and such a brother."
"Should I be a man, Owen, were I to give up this?"
"Be a man! Yes! It is pride on your part. You do not love her; you have never loved her as I have loved; you have not sat apart long months and months thinking of her, as I have done. From the time she was a child I marked her as my own. As God will help me when I die, she is all that I have coveted in this world;—all! But her I have coveted with such longings of the heart, that I cannot bring myself to live without her;—nor will I." And then again they both were silent.
"It may be as well that we should part now," said Herbert at last. "I do not know that we can gain anything by further talking on this subject."
"Well, you know that best; but I have one further question to ask you."
"What is it, Owen?"
"You still think of marrying Clara Desmond?"
"Certainly; of course I think of it."
"And when? I presume you are not so chicken-hearted as to be afraid of speaking out openly what you intend to do."