"There! you are quite pale again," said Cornelius, anxiously. "Oh, Daisy! do you then love me so much—so very much?"
I looked up, and smiled at the question. But his face was burning, and expressed mingled pleasure, doubt, and pain.
"Oh!" he continued, taking my hands in his, and speaking hesitatingly, "what am I to think of the girl who forgets her friend?"
"I knew you were vexed and angry about the party," I interrupted. "I saw you."
"And then, on the first false alarm, who returns to him so kindly, on a stormy night, by a dreary way, fearless though alone."
"Now, Cornelius, what have I done that a good sister, or friend, or daughter, would not do?"
Cornelius dropped my hands, and said, abruptly: "Do you not feel chill?"
"Not with that fire. Do you know, Cornelius, now I am here again with you and Kate, I don't see why I should go back to Poplar Lodge. Suppose you ask me to stay. Well, what are you doing?"
He had stood up, and was pouring out a glass of wine, which he handed to me.
"Take it," he said.