perhaps at this moment it went out where her pity--rather, her
pride--first found play. Perhaps Ralph seemed too high above her to
inspire her love. His brother's weaker, more womanly nature came
closer within her range.

There was now a long silence between them.

"Rotha," said Ralph at length, "this will be my last night at the
Moss; the last for a long time, at least--I didn't expect to be here
to-night. Can you promise one thing, my girl? It won't be hard for you
now--not very hard _now_." He paused.

"What is it, Ralph?" said Rotha, in a voice of apprehension.

"Only that you won't leave the old house while my mother lives."

Rotha dropped her head. She thought of the lonely cottage at Fornside,
and of him who should live there. Ralph divined the thought that was
written in her face.

"Get him to come here if you can," he said. "He could help Willy with
the farm."

"He would not come," she said. "I'm afraid he would not."

"Then neither will he return to Fornside. Promise me that while she
lives--it can't be long, Rotha, it may be but too short--promise me
that you'll make this house your home."

"My first duty is to him," said Rotha with her hand to her eyes.

"True--that's true," said Ralph; and the sense that two homes were
made desolate silenced him with something that stole upon him like
stifling shame. There was only one way out of the difficulty, and that
was to make two homes one. If she loved his brother, as he knew that
his brother loved her, then--

"Rotha," said Ralph, with a perceptible tremulousness of voice,
"I will ask you another question, and, perhaps--who knows
rightly?--perhaps it is harder for me to ask than for you to answer;
but you will answer me--will you not?--for I ask you solemnly and with
the light of Heaven on my words--on the most earnest words, I think,
that ever came out of my heart."

He paused again. Rotha sat on the end of the settle, and with fingers
intertwined, with eyelids quivering and lips trembling, she gazed in
silence into the fire.

"This is no time for idle vanities," he said; "it's no time to indulge
unreal modesties; and you have none of either if it were. God has laid
His hand on us all, Rotha; yes, and our hearts are open without
disguise before Him--and before each other, too, I think."

"Yes," said Rotha. She scarcely knew what to say, or whither Ralph's
words tended. She only knew that he was speaking as she had never
heard him speak before.