“Then you will do something to make me happy.”
“Anything; everything.”
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes, that I will,” said Zoe, almost impetuously; “and then,” with a grand look of conscious beauty, “I can make you forgive me.”
Uxmoor, on this, caught her in his arms, and kissed her with such fire that she uttered a little stifled cry of alarm; but it was soon followed by a sigh of complacency, and she sunk, resistless, on his manly breast.
So, after two sieges, he carried that fair citadel by assault.
Then let not the manly heart despair, nor take a mere brace of “Noes” from any woman. Nothing short of three negatives is serious.
They walked out in arm-in-arm and very close to each other; and he left her, solemnly engaged.
Leaving this pair to the delights of courtship, and growing affection on Zoe's side—for a warm attachment of the noblest kind did grow, by degrees, out of her penitence, and esteem, and desire to repair her fault—I must now take up the other thread of this narrative, and apologize for having inverted the order of events; for it was, in reality, several days after this happy scene that Mademoiselle Klosking sent for Miss Gale.