"False! she's as true as the stars! Oh, Redbud is not false! she is too good and kind!"
Miss Sallianna shook her head.
"You have too high an opinion of the sex at large, I fear, Mr. Verty," she said; "some of them are very inconstant; you had better not trust Redbud."
"Not trust her!"
"Be careful, I mean."
"How can I!" cried Verty.
"Easily."
"Be careful? I don't know what you mean, Miss Sallianna; but I suppose what you say is for my good."
"Oh yes, indeed."
"But I can't keep still, and watch and listen, and spy out about anybody I love so much as Redbud—for I'm certain now that I love her. Oh, no! I must trust her—trust her in everything! Why should I not? I have known her, Miss Sallianna, for years, and years—we were brought up together, and we have gone hand in hand through the woods, gathering flowers, and down by the run to play, and she has showed me how to read and write, and she gave me a Bible; and everything which I recollect has something in it about Redbud—only Redbud—so beautiful, and kind, and good. Oh, Miss Sallianna, how could I be careful, and watch, and think Redbud's smiles were not here! I could not—I would rather die!"