"You cannot love me, Sir!" ejaculated the boy so earnestly that it quite startled his companion.
"Reuben, what can you mean? Have you forgotten how I have taken you and acted by you as if I had been your Father. I cannot love you? What else but love for you has made me do what I have done?"
"That was all your goodness and the kindness of your heart, Sir. You couldn't love me when you picked me up in the road. It was pity and kindness, and it has been the same ever since; not Love—" and the tears again struggled to his eyes.
Theodore rushed suddenly from the room and into his private apartment, and falling on his knees, spread his hands over his head in prayer. "My Lord and my God!" cried he solemnly, "what means this echo from my own heart? Am I awake, or do I dream?" A profound silence was around him; but, as he arose and opened his eyes, he beheld before him, though fading rapidly from his sight, the angelic visions he had seen two years before.
He returned to Reuben, who was sitting at the table, his face buried in his arms.
Theodore laid his hand upon him. "Reuben, look up! You are under a great mistake. You are but a boy, and must not fancy you know the ins and outs of the human heart. Reuben, I do love you, and have always loved you."
"You cannot, Sir!"
"Again? and why not?"
"You are too much above me; I am an outcast, and was a beggar. It wasn't likely you could love me at any time. Besides, there has been something since."