"Of course! How can you ask such a question? But I thought you were hundreds of miles away, shooting moose, and bears, and wolves in New Brunswick."
"And so I was, and so I might have remained, had I not heard some news that sent me to Canada like a bolt from a bow."
"What news?"
"Can you ask?"
She lifted her clear eyes to his face, and read it there. The news that she was free. The red blood flushed up in her face for a moment, and then receded, leaving her as white as the snow.
"I learned in the wilds of New Brunswick, where I fled to forget you, Kate, that that man was, what I knew he would be, a traitor and a villain. I only heard it two weeks ago, and I have never rested on my way to you since. I am a fool and a madman, perhaps, but I can't help hoping against hope. I love you so much, Kate, I have loved you so long, that I cannot give you up. He is false, but I will be true. I love you with all my heart and soul, better than I love my own life. Kate, don't send me away again. Reginald Stanford does not stand between us now. Think how I love you, and be my wife."
She had tried to stop him, but he ran on impetuously. He was so haggard and so agitated speaking to her, that she could not be angry, that she could not help pitying him.
"Don't," she said, gently; "don't, Sir Ronald. You are only paining yourself and paining me. What I told you before, you force me to tell you again. I don't love you, and I can't be your wife."
"I don't expect you to love me yet," he said, eagerly; "how should you? I will wait, I will do everything under Heaven you wish, only give me hope. Give me a chance, Kate! I love you so truly and entirely, that it will win a return sooner or later."
"Ah! don't talk to me," she said, with an impatient sigh; "don't talk to me of love. I have done with that, my heart feels like dust and ashes. I am not worthy of you—I am not worthy of such devotion. I thank you, Sir Ronald, for the honour you do me; but I cannot—I cannot marry you!"