“Maude! Maude! why have you tried to avoid me all the evening? I must see you! I must speak to you in private! I must hear my destiny from your lips tonight!”
At the first sound of his voice she had started quickly, and the “eloquent blood” had flooded cheek and bosom with its rosy light; but as he went on it faded away, and a sort of shiver passed through her frame as he ceased.
“Come with me into the music-room—it is deserted now,” he said, drawing her arm through his. “There, apart from all those prying eyes, I can learn my fate.”
Paler still grew the pale face of the lady; but, without a word, she suffered herself to be led to the shadowy and deserted room he had just left.
“And now, Maude—my own love—may I claim an answer to the question I asked you last night?” he said, bending over her.
“I answered you then, my lord,” she said, sadly.
“Yes; you told me to go—to forget you; as if such a thing were possible. Maude, I cannot, I will take that for an answer. Tell me, do you love me?”
“Oh, Ernest—oh, my dear lord! you know I do!” she cried, passionately.
“Then, Maude—my beautiful one—will you not be mine—my wife?”
“Oh, I cannot! I cannot! Oh, Ernest, I cannot!” she said, with a convulsive shudder.