"Well, I must, since you pronounce me so unfortunate," I said; "but after four years and nearly a half of hope and promise——"
"Not promise."
"But of hope so warm——"
"The conditions remain: I have a brother." "But, Emily, you care——"
"For him."
"Alone?"
"They say the flowers grow fresher on maids' graves, Arthur: have you ever heard say that?"
"Yes, but hear me: a day had to come when you must leave Aubrey—only for a time, only partially—and for over a week it has seemed sure to me that it is come now. You should be taken from Swandale, you should enter upon a new life—only for a time. Hear me, Emily: you have been fearfully ill, nigh to death; turn to me, say that you will come——"
"To Styria?"
"Styria! Of course, I did not mean Styria."