Busy recollections of old hopes, cherished as a girl long ago, crowded into the mind of Rose, while making this avowal; but they brought tears with them, as old hopes will when they come back withered, and they relieved her.
“I cannot help this weakness, and it makes my purpose stronger,” said Rose, extending her hand. “I must leave you now, indeed.”
“I ask one promise,” said Harry. “Once, and only once more,—say within a year, but it may be much sooner,—let me speak to you again on this subject for the last time.”
“Not to press me to alter my right determination,” replied Rose, with a melancholy smile; “it will be useless.”
“No,” said Harry; “to hear you repeat it, if you will; finally repeat it. I will lay at your feet whatever of station or fortune I may possess, and if you still adhere to your present resolution, will not seek by word or act to change it.”
“Then let it be so,” rejoined Rose; “it is but one pang the more, and by that time I may be enabled to bear it better.”
She extended her hand again, but the young man caught her to his bosom, and imprinting one kiss upon her beautiful forehead, hurried from the room.