"But--you cannot have understood me, Maud--else would you not look so unconcerned--so vacantly--I am not understood, and am miserable!"
"No--no--no"--interrupted Maud, hurriedly--"I understand all you have wished to say, and you have no cause to be--" Maud's voice became choked, for she recollected the force of the blow that she had in reserve.
"This is so strange!--altogether so unlike your usual manner, Maud, that there must be some mistake. The box contained nothing but your own hair, dearest."
"Yes; nothing else. It was my hair; I knew it the instant I saw it."
"And did it tell you no secret?--Why was Beulah's hair not with it? Why did I cherish your hair, Maud, and your's alone? You have not understood me!"
"I have, dear, dear Bob!--You love me--you wished to say we are not brother and sister, in truth; that we have an affection that is far stronger--one that will bind us together for life. Do not look so wretched, Bob; I understand everything you wish to say."
"This is so very extraordinary!--So unlike yourself, Maud, I know not what to make of it! I sent you that box, beloved one, to say that you had my whole heart; that I thought of you day and night; that you were the great object of my existence, and that, while misery would be certain without you, felicity would be just as certain with you; in a word, that I love you, Maud, and can never love another."
"Yes, so I understood you, Bob."--Maud, spite of her concentration of feeling on the dreadful secret, could not refrain from blushing--"It was too plain to be mistaken."
"And how was my declaration received? Tell me at once, dear girl, with your usual truth of character, and frankness--can you, will you love me in return?"
This was a home question, and, on another occasion, it might have produced a scene of embarrassment and hesitation. But Maud was delighted with the idea that it was in her power to break the violence of the blow she was about to inflict, by setting Robert Willoughby's mind at ease on this great point.