"Nay, sir, I would be as I am; I am not discontent so that I can be near—" here he checked himself, bent his head to his writing, and did not look up until he fell a hand gently laid upon his shoulder. He started, while the colour came and went in his cheek with confusion, and he shrunk instinctively away.
"Beshrew me, fair youth! I know not what to make of thee," said the young captain, taking a seat beside him, and resting one arm familiarly upon his shoulder. "Thou hast some deep, untold grief at thy heart. If it be a love secret—a tale of love unrequited—of cruel maids and broken promises," he said, gayly, "why, then, out with it; make me your confidant; I will tell you how to make her heart ache, and to wish thee back again. Come, Edwin, unburden thy thoughts. Unspoken, they will feed upon the cheek and eye, and the grave have thee ere thou hast attained manhood."
The youthful secretary was silent a few moments, and then said, with an attempt to smile,
"I have a tale of love, but not of mine."
"I will hear it, and then tell thee if I think it thine or no."
"There was once a noble maiden, the heiress of an earldom, who loved a peasant youth, handsome and brave, and the nobility he gat not by birth nature endowed him with. The maiden was proud and independent of spirit, and loved him for himself—for title, wealth, and rank she thought not!"
"A generous creature. And this humble youth loved her in return?"
"No."
"No! then, by Heaven, he was ignoble indeed, and her love was ill placed, poor lady!"
"Nay—he loved another!"