"No one, Edith! Not even me?"
"Not even you, Sir Victor. How could I? Why should I? I never dreamed of this."
"Never dreamed of this!" he repeated, in amaze; "when you must have seen—must have known—"
She interrupted him, a faint smile curling her lips.
"I thought it was Trixy," she said.
"Miss Stuart! Then she has told you nothing of that night at Killarney—I really imagined she had. Miss Stuart has been my kind friend, my one confidante and sympathizer. No sister could be kinder in her encouragement and comfort than she."
"O poor Trix—a sister!" Edith thought, and in spite of every effort, the laugh she strove so hard to suppress dimpled the corners of her mouth. "Won't there be a scene when you hear all this!"
"For pity's sake, Edith, speak to me!" the young man exclaimed. "I love you—my life will be miserable without you. If you are free, why may I not hope? See! I don't even ask you to love me now. I will wait; I will be patient. My love is so great that it will win yours in return. O darling! say you will be my wife."
Her hands were in his. The fervor, the passion within him almost frightened her.
"Sir Victor, I—I hardly know what to say. I wonder that you care for me. I wonder you want to marry me. I am not your equal; I have neither rank, nor wealth, nor descent."