"Does your life have so much pleasure?"
"To-day—" said the girl, with a rapt look out to sea.
"And yet Rotha, it is for you I am troubled."
"For me!" she said with a surprised look at him.
"Yes. Suppose you sit down here for a few minutes, and let me talk to you."
"I don't want to talk about trouble just now," she said; sitting down however as he bade her.
"I am very sorry to talk about it now, or at any time; but I must. Can you bear trouble, Rotha?"
There was something tender and grave and sympathizing in his look and tone, which somehow made the girl's heart beat quicker. That there was real gravity of tidings beneath such a manner, she felt intuitively; though she strove not to believe it.
"I don't know,—" she said in answer to his question. "I have borne it."
"This is more than you have borne yet."