“Allow me to conduct ye to the drawing room, upstairs, young lady. He’ll follow, safe enough!”
Rose had not stipulated for that. Nevertheless, seeing no cloud on her mother’s face, or her father’s, she gave Old Tom her hand, and awaited a movement from Evan. It was too late to object to it on either side. Old Tom had caught the tide at the right instant. Much as if a grim old genie had planted them together, the lovers found themselves alone.
“Evan, you forgive me?” she began, looking up at him timidly.
“With all my heart, Rose,” he answered, with great cheerfulness.
“No. I know your heart better. Oh, Evan! you must be sure that we respect you too much to wound you. We came to thank you for your generosity. Do you refuse to accept anything from us? How can we take this that you thrust on us, unless in some way—”
“Say no more,” he interposed. “You see me here. You know me as I am, now.”
“Yes, yes!” the tears stood in her eyes. “Why did I come, you would ask? That is what you cannot forgive! I see now how useless it was. Evan! why did you betray me?”
“Betray you, Rose?”
“You said that you loved me once.”
She was weeping, and all his spirit melted, and his love cried out: “I said ‘till death,’ and till death it will be, Rose.”