"Yes, do," he replied, sitting by her, "you know there's nothing would please me better." But for all he tried to be gay, Rose saw that the shadow she had observed over him all day was deeper than before.
"Dear friend," she said, softened and made earnest at once, "something troubles you to-day."
"Yes, dear Rose, I am troubled to-day in spite of all the kindness shown me. My little box troubles me; I am afraid to open it."
"Then the best thing is to do it at once, is it not? One only makes such things worse by thinking about them."
"I know it. No, I will not open it now; I will have every moment of happiness I can first."
"What happiness can it take from you? You will be yourself still, let there be in it what there will. Our happiness is our own."
"O Rose!"
"O Dick! if we are good, are we not happy? And nobody can make us bad against our will."
"But, Rose, this may tell me something that you—there is my fear, Rose, it may take you away from me."
"Oh! no, Dick, dear Dick, how can anything take me away from you? But even if it did, you know we always said, 'If it were for the best.' If it were not for the best, we would not wish it, would we, dear? Yes, we could help wishing it; when the good God saw it was not best, he would give us strength to bear it."