"I am afraid you rate what I have done far more highly than it deserves."
"I can, at least, think my own thoughts about it," replied Fan softly. "But poor Mrs. Winslade--what she must have suffered at finding herself driven to make such a confession! My heart bleeds for her." As she spoke she could feel a shiver run through the arm on which her hand was resting.
For a minute or two they walked on in silence. Phil felt that it was now his turn to speak. "My dear," he began, "in the note I received from you this afternoon you tell me that you only love me the more after what I said to your father."
"I told you no more than the truth."
He lifted her hand and pressed it passionately to his lips.
"But there are your parents to think of," he went on. "It is your place, your duty to consider them first of all. It is too much to expect that they should welcome to their fireside, or be willing to allow their daughter to ally herself to, the son of a felon. They would deem both her and themselves disgraced by so doing." Here an involuntary sigh broke from him. "Listen, then, dearest. Let the cost to myself be what it may, I here and now cancel the promise you gave me three weeks ago on board ship. Take it back and try to forget that it ever had an existence. We did not know then all that we have learnt since. To you a far different fate is due than to wed the son of Philip Cordery the forger."
Fanny laughed a little laugh that had in it more of tears than mirth. "You foolish, foolish Phil!" she exclaimed. "And is that the sort of young woman you take me for? What a low opinion you must have formed of me! How strangely you must have misread me! No, sir, you not only have my promise, but I have yours, and I mean to keep it fast--fast---fast! So 'no more of that, Hal, an' thou lovest me.' As for papa, I feel sure that in his heart he admires and likes you to-day far more than he ever did before. He will never as much as lift his little finger in opposition to our engagement. With mamma I admit that it is different. She is not without her opinions, and there is always that fetich of our noble relations to block the way. But this she knows from me and clearly understands, that neither on account of our relatives (who care nothing for us), nor for any other cause--certainly not by reason of anything you told papa--will I take back my plighted word. I am yours, and you are mine." Then, a moment later, she added: "Beyond my father and mother, there is no one else to consider, for that your and Mrs. Winslade's secret is safe in their keeping cannot for one moment be doubted. The world will never be any wiser than it is now."
In the face of such a declaration of unwavering love, so unfalteringly given, so instinct with loyalty and determination, what could Philip, what could any lover, have done save that which he did? The place was solitary, not a creature was in sight; his arms encircled her, he drew her to him, and then his lips pressed hers in a lingering kiss which was repeated again and again. "O my love--my love!" he murmured. "I am not worthy, indeed I am not, of all that you are sacrificing for my sake."
With her head resting against his shoulder, she looked up into his face with a heavenly smile. "Where true love exists there can be no such thing as a sacrifice."