Poor Peggy's heart overflowed its bounds; burying her face in her hands, she burst into tears.
Mark didn't know what to make of it. She must have liked me a little, thought he, or why this grief? Well, it's all my own fault. Why didn't I tell her of my love, like a man? and not sneak about, afraid of the sound of my own voice. I've lost her, lost the only thing that made life to me worth enduring, and the sooner I relieve her of my presence the better.
"Miss May! Peggy!" he said, with an effort at calmness, "this is the last time we may meet on earth; won't you give me your hand at parting?"
Peggy stretched out both hands, exclaiming through her tears—"Mark! Mark! this is, indeed, cruel!"
"It is, I know it is!" said Mark, brushing away an obtrusive tear. "So, God bless you, and good angels watch over you; and if you ever cared for me"——
"If I ever cared for you! oh, Mark!"
"Why! did you?" inquired Mark.
"You were my only thought, my life, my happiness!" There was the same curious sound from the chamber door, but the innocent wind had again to bear the blame. Peggy continued—"Mark, would that you had the same feeling for me!"
"I had! I had!" frantically he replied. "And more, oh! much more than I have words to speak. Why didn't we know this sooner?"
"Ah! why, indeed?" sadly replied Peggy, "but it is too late."