"I have no such expectation," he answered.
"And are not engaged to any one?"
"To nothing but an old love, dear! Was that why you were afraid to show yourself to me?"
"Yes!" I answered, making no resistance to the arm that was put gently round me. He was mine now, I knew, as I felt the strong heart beating fast against my own.
"Rachel," he whispered, "the only woman I ever did or ever can love, will you send me away again?"
A SHETLAND SHAWL.
It was made of the purest and finest wool,
As fine as silk, and as soft and cool;
It was pearly white, of that cloud-like hue
Which has a shadowy tinge of blue;
And brought by the good ship, miles and miles,
From the distant shores of the Shetland Isles.
And in it were woven, here and there,
The golden threads of a maiden's hair,
As the wanton wind with tosses and twirls
Blew in and out of her floating curls,
While her busy fingers swiftly drew
The ivory needle through and through.