"Let me explain first."
"I ask for no explanation, and will listen to none. Suppose me to repose implicit confidence in the vague accusations of an anonymous slander. Suppose me to believe you false and fickle, a shameless coquette, and myself an infatuated old fool. Suppose anything and everything you please; but first answer the question I ask you from the bottom of my heart, with this anonymous statement, false or true, I care not a jot which, in my hand."
He held it as if about to tear it across and fling it in the grate. She laid a gentle touch on his arm and whispered softly—
"Don't destroy it till I've answered your question. Yes. There is nobody like you in the world!"
We need not stop to repeat a proverb touching the irreverent persistency of Folly in travelling hand-in-hand with Age; and of what extravagances the General might have been guilty, in his exceeding joy, it is impossible to guess, had she not stopped him at the outset.
"Sit down there," she said, pointing to a corner of the sofa, while establishing herself in an armchair on the other side of the fire-place. "Now that you have had your say, perhaps you will let me have mine! Hush! I know what you mean. I take all that for granted. Stay where you are, hold your tongue, and listen to me."
"The first duty of a soldier is obedience," he answered in great glee. "I'll be as steady as I can."
"It is my right now to explain," she continued gravely. "Believe me. I most fully appreciate; I never can forget. Whatever happened I never could forget the confidence you have shown in me to-day. Depend upon it, when you trust people so unreservedly, you make it impossible for them to deceive. I have always honoured and admired you. During the last hour I have learned to—to—well—to think you deserve more than honour and esteem. Any woman might be proud and happy—yes—happy to belong to you. But now, if I am to be your wife—don't interrupt. Well, as I am to be your wife, you must let me tell you everything—everything—or I recall my promise."
"Don't do that," he answered playfully. "But mind, I'm quite satisfied with you as you are, and ask to know nothing."
She hesitated, and the colour came to her brow while she completed her confession. "You—you lent me some money, you know; gave it me, I ought to say, for I'm quite sure you never expected to see it back again. It was a good deal. Don't contradict. It was a good deal, and I wonder how I could have the face to ask for it. But I didn't want it for myself. It was to save from utter ruin a very old and dear friend."