Why did she hesitate? Because it was so poor a gift, and so unworthy of him.
And why did he insist? Because in honour she was bound to surrender it.
And why did she hesitate still? Let her answer.
“Oh, Evan! I would give you anything but that; and if you are going away, I should beg so much to keep it.”
He must have been in a singular state not to see her heart in the refusal, as was she not to see his in the request. But Love is blindest just when the bandage is being removed from his forehead.
“Then you will not give it me, Rose? Do you think I shall go about boasting ‘This is Miss Jocelyn’s handkerchief, and I, poor as I am, have won it’?”
The taunt struck aslant in Rose’s breast with a peculiar sting. She stood up.
“I will give it you, Evan.”
Turning from him she drew it forth, and handed it to him hurriedly. It was warm. It was stained with his blood. He guessed where it had been nestling, and, now, as if by revelation, he saw that large sole star in the bosom of his darling, and was blinded by it and lost his senses.
“Rose! beloved!”