CHAPTER XI.
“And will you rend our ancient love asunder,
And join with men in scorning your poor friend.”
Midsummer Night's Dream.
While Virginia was thus engaged, she was surprised by hearing a light step behind her, and looking up she saw Hansford pale and agitated, standing in the room.
“What in the world is the matter?” she cried, alarmed at his appearance; “have the Indians—”
“No, dearest, the Indians are far away ere this. But alas! there are other enemies to our peace than they.”
“What do you mean?” she said, “speak! why do you thus agitate me by withholding what you would say.”
“My dear Virginia,” replied her lover, “do you not remember that I told you last night that I had something to communicate, which would surprise and grieve you. I cannot expect you to understand or appreciate fully my motives. But you can at least hear me patiently, and by the memory of our love, by the sacred seal of our plighted troth, I beg you to hear me with indulgence, if not forgiveness.”
“There are but few things, Hansford, that you could do,” said Virginia, gravely, “that love would not teach me to forgive. Go on. I hear you patiently.”