“Quite sure,” she said, firmly, though kindly.
“Brownie, Brownie, when I love you so; when I have listened eagerly for the sound of your footfall; when even the tone of your voice has been music to me from the first; when every fiber of my being has twined itself about you! Oh! it is too cruel; I cannot have it so—only give me one little ray of hope, and I will wait years, if need be.”
His voice sounded like the cry of the lost, and he caught his breath with a hard, dry sob, that made the young girl’s heart ache with pity for him.
She arose from the chair where she had been sitting, and the great tears rolled swiftly over her flushed cheeks.
“Mr. Coolidge, be assured if I could truthfully speak the words you wish, I would do so; but it cannot be, and as it will only give us both pain to meet again, let me say good-by to you here, for I go this evening. Please accept my thanks for your kindness to me, and let me still be your friend.”
She held out her hand to him and he took it, his whole frame shaking with the great bitterness which well-nigh crushed him.
He lifted it to his lips, then broke down entirely, and with one quick movement, gathered her close in his arms, and pressed his lips to her white brow.
“My darling, my darling,” he groaned, “forgive me, but you can never know the wretchedness of this moment to me.”
At that moment the library door sprang open, and Mrs. Coolidge and Isabel stood upon the threshold.