“I never was more delighted to see you,” she said, unaware of the tide of emotion which his answer would awaken.
“I am glad, indeed, that it is so. Then I do not seek you to be repulsed. I love you, Arline.”
She was not startled by this avowal, as it might have been supposed she would have been, and yet she never thought to hear words like those pass his lips. Like dew upon withering flowers they came, and she looked up, saying,—
“How long has this feeling existed in your heart, Hugh?”
“Since I found I could love more than one, and yet love that one deeper and more tenderly.”
“And when was that?”
“When I first saw my home after my foreign trip. Until then, I had but one feeling towards you, and that, you know, was a brother's love.”
“I do.”
“But tell me,” he said, as though a new thought had impressed him, “how long have you loved me?”
“Always, Hugh.”