“Yes, it is absolutely certain. How could I climb up in the world if I stayed here?”
“But I don’t want you to go,” she cried, excitedly.
“And I don’t want to leave you,” he said, fondly.
“I want you to stop and protect me, and take care of me and keep me for yours, Luke.”
“Don’t—don’t talk like that,” he cried, speaking hoarsely, “or you will make me forget my promise to your uncle. Let us be firm and true, and look the matter seriously in the face. It is for our future, and I pray and believe that I am acting wisely here.”
“But you will be away,” she said, with a piteous look in her eyes. “There will be no one to take care of me when you are gone.”
“Nonsense, little one,” he exclaimed. “There is your uncle. What have you to fear? Only be true to me.”
“Oh, yes, yes,” she sobbed; “but you do not know, Luke. I might be tempted, I might be led away from you—I might—”
“Might!” he said, with scorn in his voice. “My little Sage, whom I have known from the day when she gave me first her innocent sisterly love, could not be untrue to the man she has promised to wed. Sage, dear,” he continued, holding her hands in his, and gazing in her agitated, tearful face, “look at me—look me fully in the eyes.”
“Yes, Luke,” she said, hesitatingly; and her pretty, troubled face looked so winning that it was all he could do to keep from clasping her in his arms tightly to his own trusting breast.