“Eve,” he whispered, “may I tell you of something of which you have never dreamed? I meant to keep it yet for months, but your words drive me to speak, and at the risk of losing all I must.
“My child, I have known you now for months; I have watched you till I have felt that I knew even the thoughts of your gentle heart; and as I learned them, knowing what I did, life has been to me one long time of agony. Eve, I have loved you with all my heart—so well that I would not give you the pain of knowing it; glad to feel that I was your friend, whom you could trust and turn to in your trouble. Have I kept to that?”
“Yes, yes,” she said, piteously.
“Have I ever broken from the position in which fate placed me, or been traitor to your trust? Have I ever shown you the deep and passionate love that was in my heart?”
“Never, never!” she moaned.
“No,” he exclaimed; “I struggled and fought against it, even yielding to your wishes to perform a duty in which I felt that I was being my own executioner. But now you are free. You cannot wed this man!”
“No, no, no,” she whispered, with a shudder.
“Then give me some little hope—however little. My darling, I will wait for years if you will but tell me—You turn from me—am I mad in thinking that you might some day trust me with this little hand? You said you must go. Why—why leave me? Oh, Eve—darling! have I kept my secret so long for this?”
He was rising from his seat when her little hands went up to his, and he sank beside her, as they were placed upon his breast, and Eve’s cheek went down upon them, and she nestled there.
“Is this a dream?” he exclaimed.