After we had walked up and down in silence more than once, he recovered
composure enough to say:

"You must think me a fool; and, indeed, the delirium of my joy has
robbed me of both nerve and wits. But of this at least be assured,
whatever you do is sacred in my eyes from the very fact that it seemed
right to you. I honor you as I honor only God besides. And then, Miss
Griffith is here."

"She is here for the sake of the others, not for us," I put in hastily.

My dear, he understood me at once.

"I know very well," he said, with the humblest glance at me, "that
whether she is there or not makes no difference. Unseen of men, we are
still in the presence of God, and our own esteem is not less important
to us than that of the world."

"Thank you, Felipe," I said, holding out my hand to him with a gesture
which you ought to see. "A woman, and I am nothing, if not a woman,
is on the road to loving the man who understands her. Oh! only on the
road," I went on, with a finger on my lips. "Don't let your hopes carry
you beyond what I say. My heart will belong only to the man who can
read it and know its every turn. Our views, without being absolutely
identical, must be the same in their breadth and elevation. I have no
wish to exaggerate my own merits; doubtless what seem virtues in my
eyes have their corresponding defects. All I can say is, I should be
heartbroken without them."

"Having first accepted me as your servant, you now permit me to love
you," he said, trembling and looking in my face at each word. "My first
prayer has been more than answered."

"But," I hastened to reply, "your position seems to me a better one than
mine. I should not object to change places, and this change it lies with
you to bring about."

"In my turn, I thank you," he replied. "I know the duties of a faithful
lover. It is mine to prove that I am worthy of you; the trials shall
be as long as you choose to make them. If I belie your hopes, you have
only--God! that I should say it--to reject me."

"I know that you love me," I replied. "_So far_," with a cruel emphasis
on the words, "you stand first in my regard. Otherwise you would not be
here."

Then we began to walk up and down as we talked, and I must say that
so soon as my Spaniard had recovered himself he put forth the genuine
eloquence of the heart. It was not passion it breathed, but a marvelous
tenderness of feeling which he beautifully compared to the divine
love. His thrillin