“Do you know, Miss Cosin, what it was that forced me at last to come and see your brother?”
“Indeed, I do not,” she replied, a little surprised at the earnestness with which he so abruptly asked the question.
“It was misery. For months I have kept it to myself, and at last I could bear it no longer. I must have gone mad if I could not have spoken to some one outside that wretched prison house.”
“I am very glad you have taken the first step towards making my brother your confidant.
You will find him a very sensible and sympathizing friend.”
“Oh, but I want you, Miss Cosin, to give me the first encouragement.”
She was inclined at first to laugh, but seeing how serious, and even solemn, his manner was, she said, rather severely, “And do you think, sir, after so very short an acquaintance, you have any right to expect such a thing of me?”
He saw instantly what a mistake he had made, and how naturally she had misunderstood his meaning.
“Oh, pardon me, Miss Cosin; my eagerness to know something made me frame my words awkwardly. Let me explain. I have a dear mother in my home in France, and, if possible, a still dearer friend to whom I am engaged, and I love her with my whole heart and soul. I cannot tell you how I love her.”
“Well, Captain Tournier,” said Alice, relaxing her severity of manner, though it was not very severe.