or Gilbert
that Margaret should have turned to the old servant, who had advanced a
pace, and calmly motioned her back to her corner. The daughter of
Stramen listened to Gilbert's passionate professions with the air of one
who was hearing the same vows, from the same person, under similar
circumstances for the second time. She could scarcely have foreseen
this, but there is no estimating the power of anticipation it is the
mother of much presence of mind and unpremeditated wit.

After reciting the history of his love from its dawn to its zenith,
Gilbert began to conjure her not to slight his affection, and not to
permit family prejudices to stand in the way of their union.

"It can never be sufficiently lamented," he said, "that the demon of
revenge has so long separated our houses, which ought to be united in
the closest ties of friendship. It is time for us to learn to forgive.
We have been too long aliens from God, and wedded to our evil passions.
We must fling aside the scowl of defiance, the angry malediction, the
sword and the firebrand, and, like Christians and neighbors, contract an
alliance that may edify as much as our discord has scandalized. I
conjure you, in the name of the victims already made by our feud--of the
numbers who must perish by its continuance--in the name of the holy
Church whose precepts we have disregarded, of the God whose Commandments
we have violated, not to dismiss me in scorn and anger. I have perilled
my life, that I might end our enmity in love."

"I am most happy," interposed the Lady Margaret, availing herself of the
first pause in his rapid utterance, "I am most happy," she repeated, in
a voice of singular sweetness, "that our enmity may end in love--"

A smile of exultation shot over Gilbert's face, and a sound of joy
trembled on his lips. This did not escape the maiden, for she instantly
added:

"But not in the love you propose!"

The light was gone from Gilbert's countenance, and he stared wildly into
the lovely and mournful face before him.

"Not in the love you propose," she resumed. Hitherto she had spoken
seriously and without agitation, but now her whole manner was changed.
Her cheek glowed and her eyes gleamed: a sudden animation appeared in
every limb. She took a step forward, and bent over the still kneeling
youth, fixing upon his a steady, penetrating gaze, as though she sought
to read his inmost soul.

"Tell me, Gilbert de Hers," she said, "do you truly desire