‘Oh, Frank!’—and there was a rush of tears—‘dear Frank, your hard work and cares are all over!’
‘I am not sure of that,’ he said gravely; ‘but, at least, this long waiting is over, and I can give you everything.’
‘But, oh!’ she cried, sobbing uncontrollably, with her face hidden in her handkerchief.
‘Mary, Mary! what does this mean? Don’t you understand? There’s nothing to hinder it now.’
She made a gesture as if to put him back from her, and struggled for utterance.
‘It is very dear, very good; but—but it can’t be now. You must not drag yourself down with me.’
‘That is just nonsense, Mary. You are far fitter for this than I am. You are the one joy in it to me.’
‘You think so now,’ she said, striving to hold herself back; ‘but you won’t by and by.’
‘Do you think me a mere boy to change so
easily?’ said the new lord earnestly. ‘I look on this as a heavy burthen and very serious responsibility: but it is to you whom I look to sweeten it, help me through with it, and guard me from its temptations.’