“More than life; more than all things in this wide world—” there was a momentary fall in his voice; then he added, “save honor.”
A little sudden fear pricked at Brilliana’s heart, but she tried to deny it with a little, teasing laugh.
“Oh, that wonderful word ‘honor,’” she mocked. “I thought we should pull that out of the sack sooner or later.”
Evander watched her with surprise. “What is coming next?” he wondered. He began to fear as he answered, simply:
“You would not have me neglect honor?”
Brilliana’s face was set steadfastly towards him; Brilliana’s eyes were very bright; Brilliana’s cheeks were as red as the late October roses.
“Here is what I would have you do,” she said, breathlessly, and then paused—paused so long that Evander, watching and waiting, prompted her with a questioning “Well?”
Brilliana still seemed to hesitate. That word “honor” had frightened her for Evander, had frightened her for herself. She now groped uncertain, who thought to tread so surely.
“Will you do as I wish if I tell you?” she asked, trying to mask anxiety with a jesting manner. And when Evander responded gravely, “If I can,” she pressed him impetuously again.
“Nay, now, make me a square promise.” She looked very fair as she pleaded.