'Ah, Rose! do you compel me to repeat it?'
Bewildered, Rose thought: 'Have I slept and forgotten it?'
He saw the persistent grieved interrogation of her eyebrows.
'Well!' she sighed resignedly: 'I am yours; you know that, Evan.'
But he was a lover, and quarrelled with her sigh.
'It may well make you sad now, Rose.'
'Sad? no, that does not make me sad. No; but my hands are tied.
I cannot defend you or justify myself; and induce Mama to stand by us.
Oh, Evan! you love me! why can you not open your heart to me entirely,
and trust me?'
'More?' cried Evan: 'Can I trust you more?' He spoke of the letter: Rose caught his hand.
'I never had it, Evan. You wrote it last night? and all was written in it? I never saw it—but I know all.'
Their eyes fronted. The gates of Rose's were wide open, and he saw no hurtful beasts or lurking snakes in the happy garden within, but Love, like a fixed star.