They proceeded, arm-in-arm, to the farthest part of the garden; and there they walked up and down without either seeming inclined to speak, as though their hearts could discourse through their hands, which were locked in one another.
"Rosalie!" at last breathed Theodore. "Rosalie!" breathed he a second time, before the expecting girl could summon courage to say "Well!" "I cannot go home to-night," resumed he, "without speaking to you." Yet Theodore seemed to be in no hurry to speak; for there he stopped, and continued silent so long that Rosalie began to doubt whether he would open his lips again.
"Had we not better go in?" said Rosalie, "I think I hear them breaking up."
"Not yet," replied Theodore.
"They'll miss us," said Rosalie.
"What of that?" rejoined Theodore.
"Nay," resumed the maid, "we have remained long enough, and at least allow me to go in."
"Stop but another minute, dear Rosalie!" imploringly exclaimed the youth.
"For what!" was the maid's reply.
"Rosalie," without a pause resumed Theodore, "you used to sit upon my knee, and let me call you wife. Are those times passed forever? dear Rosalie!—will you never let me take you on my knee and call you wife again?"