Town. was too deeply absorbed in the tumultuous fluttering of his heart, to note the expression of his fair companion’s face. After a moment’s silence he said:
“Wildwood seems unusually calm this morning.”
“And lonely,” replied Madge; “I wonder where those flocks of beautiful wild ducks and geese are that are most always seen upon the lake.”
“It is very probable that they are lying along in the cool shadow of the shores, or among the reeds and rushes over yonder.”
“The lake looks quite lonely without them,” said Madge. “Many pleasant moments have I spent here alone watching the feathered tribes gliding over the water, and—”
“Then you love to be alone—you love solitude, Madge?” questioned Town., with a perceptible change in his voice.
Madge raised her eyes and gazed into the young man’s face, as if touched by his question.
“Are there not times, Town.,” she asked, “when you would rather be alone than in company with your best friend?”
“Yes; but not my dearest friend. When I wish for solitude it is only to think and dream of you, dear Madge. Since we first met, my heart has gone out to you in the most passionate love, and I have longed for this moment, Madge, to ask you to be mine—mine forever!”
Madge was quite indifferent to this declaration of love. She had long been expecting it, and was prepared. As she lifted her eyes to those of Town., a smile, in which there was a shadow of sarcasm, passed over her face.