“Oh no, no—it was not his fault.”
Julius laughed a little, and added, “I am not saying he deserves you—hush!—or that it would be well to take him now, only that I think to find himself utterly rejected for so insufficient a reason, and when he was really deceived, would not only half kill him now, but do his whole nature cruel harm.”
“What is to be done then?” sighed Eleonora.
“I should say, and I think my mother would put him on some probation if you like, even before you call it an engagement; but give him hope. Let him know that your attachment is as true and unselfish as ever, and do not let him brood in misery, enhanced by his deafness.”
“I can’t marry while poor papa is like what he is,” said she, as if trying to keep hold of her purpose.
“But you can be Frank’s light and hope—the prize for which he can work.”
“If—your mother will have it so—then,” said Eleonora, and the sigh that followed was one to relieve, not exhaust.
“May I tell her then?”
“You must, I suppose,” said the poor girl; “but she can never wish it to go on!”
Julius left her at her own door and went home.