"You needn't read that!" he interrupted. But without heeding him, she continued:
"'You are the best and bravest fellow alive. Good-by, Dick, again, for the last time.
"'Harry Van Ashton, better known to the world as Bob Carlton, gambler and—'" The letter ended abruptly. A sob broke from Bessie. Two bright tears glistened like jewels in the moonlight on her long lashes and then stole silently down her cheeks.
"Don't take it so hard, Miss Van Ashton," he said. "Your brother was wild, but not so bad as the world thought him."
"My poor brother!" she murmured.
"I am sure," he resumed after a little, "that when your brother looked into your eyes that day, his manhood reasserted itself; that he repented and threw off his past life like an old garment, and from that moment, stood prepared to enter the presence of his Maker."
"You are very good to say that," she answered, looking up at him with shining eyes.
"No, it's not good of me at all," he returned. "I love you too much to say anything but what I know to be true." She did not reply, but remained lost in thought, her eyes cast on the ground.
"Bessie!" he exclaimed passionately, drawing nearer to her. "Why do you hesitate? You know that I understand you better than any one else ever could. You know you love me!" She knew her moment had come; that she must answer him for all time, and strive as she would, she could not conceal her confusion. He did not know how intense was the struggle going on within her, nor realize what it meant to her to give up the life she had known always.
"And what if I told you," she said at length, her eyes still downcast, "that I care more for you than anything else in this world, Dick?" pronouncing his name aloud for the first time. "What would you say then?"