“Why should we peril either,” replied she; “mine, yours, or that of another who is far away? You know my faith is pledged to him, to what end then our meeting, until you too have chosen another object for the love you have so unfortunately misplaced? Then we may meet perhaps as friends. Till then, let us part as friends.”
“You have nothing more to fear from me, from my love,” replied he, bending down his eyes to conceal their expression. “But neither has any one aught to hope from it! For me to love again is impossible. Let it be enough that I resolve to extinguish a vain, hopeless passion. I ask now to be trusted as a friend only. Can you not believe me so far as that?”
“It is wisest not to try,” said she, slowly.
“What makes you so mistrustful?” questioned he, looking earnestly at her.
“Experience!” was her answer; while the color deepened on her cheeks, as she thought of past scenes.
“Are you quite candid now, Miss Duncan? is it not, rather,
the injunction, the wish, perhaps, I should say, of him, of Captain Hepburn? Did not he bid you shun me? It can not be your own nature to be so newly suspicious; tell me it is his.”
“No, indeed, he laid no restriction on me: he trusted entirely to my prudence, and I will show I deserved it.”
“I would rather it had been his wish; I could have borne his suspicions better,” said Charles, sadly. “But surely, could he see me now, he would not fear me. I only aspire to be your friend, I only ask for calm and quiet intercourse; I have no pretensions now which could create jealousy, or make him suppose me a rival. I own his superiority, I admire, I esteem him; my own hopes being gone, I may at least rejoice that one worthy of you has won you; I am resigned to my loss; why should you make it more bitter than necessity requires?”
She was silent, but she drew back when he tried to take her hand.