"Why? Because, dear Ishmael, though we shall never meet again after to-day—though it would not be right that we should—yet I shall always hold you as the dearest among my brothers. Oh, did you think; did you think it could be otherwise? Did you think this dispensation could turn me against you? Oh, no, no, no, Ishmael; it could not. Nothing that you could do could turn me against you, because you would do no wrong. You have not done wrong now, dear; do not imagine that any of us think so. We do not presume to blame you—none of us; not my father, not my mother—least of all myself. It was—-"
Again her sinking voice dropped into silence. "Bee; darling, darling Bee, you do not know what you are talking about. I love you, Bee; I love you," said Ishmael earnestly, again trying to draw her to his heart; but again she gently prevented him, as with a wan smile, and in a low voice, she answered:
"I know you do, dear; I never doubted that you did. You always loved me as if I were your own little sister. But not as you loved her, Ishmael."
"Bee—-"
"Hush, dear, let me speak while I have strength to do so. She was your first love, Ishmael; your first friend, you remember. With all her faults—and they are but as the spots upon the sun—she is a glorious creature, and worthy of you. I always knew that I was not to be compared to her."
"No, Heaven knows that you were not," breathed Ishmael inaudibly, as he watched Bee.
"All your friends, Ishmael—all who love you and who are interested in your welfare—if they could influence your choice, would direct it to her, rather than to me. You are making your name illustrious; you will some time attain a high station in society. And who is there so worthy to bear your name and share your station as that queenly woman?"
"Bee, Bee, you almost break my heart. I tell you I love you, Bee. I love you!"
"I know you do, dear; I have said that you do; and you are distressed about me; but do not be so, dear. Indeed I shall be very well; I shall have work to occupy me and duties to interest me; indeed I shall be happy, Ishmael; indeed I shall; and I shall always love you, as a little sister loves her dearest brother; so take your trothplight back again, dear, and with it take my prayers for your happiness," said Bee, beginning to draw the engagement ring from her finger.
"Bee, Bee, what are you doing? You will not listen to me. I love you, Bee! I love you. Hear me! There is no woman in the world that can rival you for an instant in my heart; no, not one; and there has never been one. That boyish passion I once cherished for another, and that haunts your imagination so fatally, was but a blaze of straw that quickly burned out. It was a fever common to boyhood. Few men, arrived at years of discretion, Bee, would like to marry their first follies—for it is a misnomer to call them first loves. Yes, very few men would like to do so, Bee, least of all would I. What I give you, Bee, is a constant, steadfast love, a love for time and for eternity. Oh, my dearest, hear me, and believe me," he said, speaking fervently, earnestly, forcibly.