"Caroline," said Lawson, after another period of silence, and his voice was low, tender and penetrating—"Are you willing, for my sake, to brave your father's anger?"
"For your sake, Charles!" replied Caroline, with sudden enthusiasm. "Yes—yes. His anger would be light to the loss of your affection."
"Bless your true heart!" exclaimed Lawson. "I knew that I had not trusted it in vain. And now, my dear girl, let me speak freely of the nature of my present visit. With you, I believe, that all hope of your father's consent is vain. But, he is a man of tender feelings, and loves you as the apple of his eye."
Thus urged the tempter, and Caroline listened eagerly.
"If," he continued, "we precipitate a union—if we put the marriage rite between us and his strong opposition, that opposition will grow weak as a withering leaf. He cannot turn from you. He loves you too well."
Caroline did not answer; but, it needed no words to tell Lawson that he was not urging his wishes in vain.
"I am here," at length he said, boldly, "for the purpose of taking you to New York. Will you go with me?"
"For what end?" she whispered.
"To become my wife."
There was no starting, shrinking, nor trembling at this proposal. Caroline was prepared for it; and, in the blindness of a mistaken love, ready to do as the tempter wished. Poor lamb! She was to be led to the slaughter, decked with ribbons and garlands, a victim by her own consent.