re emphatically.

'I am pitiable, perhaps; so are many people. Why do you pity me?'

'I think that you make yourself needlessly sad.'

'Not needlessly.'

'Yes, needlessly. Why should you be separated from your brother so much,
when you might have him to stay with you till he is well?'

'That can't be,' she said, turning away.

He went on, 'I think the real and only good thing that can be done for
him is to get him away from Budmouth awhile; and I have been wondering
whether it could not be managed for him to come to my house to live for
a few weeks. Only a quarter of a mile from you. How pleasant it would
be!'

'It would.'

He moved himself round immediately to the front of her, and held her
hand more firmly, as he continued, 'Cytherea, why do you say "It would,"
so entirely in the tone of abstract supposition? I want him there: I
want him to be my brother, too. Then make him so, and be my wife! I
cannot live without you. O Cytherea, my darling, my love, come and be my
wife!'

His face bent closer and closer to hers, and the last words sank to a
whisper as weak as the emotion inspiring it was strong.

She said firmly and distinctly, 'Yes, I will.'

'Next month?' he said on the instant, before taking breath.

'No; not next month.'

'The next?'

'No.'

'December? Christmas Day, say?'

'I don't mind.'

'O, you darling!' He was about to imprint a kiss upon her pale, cold
mouth, but she hastily covered it with her hand.

'Don't kiss me--at least where we are now!' she whispered imploringly.

'Why?'

'We are too near God.'

He gave a sudden start, and his face flushed. She had spoken so
emphatically that the words 'Near God' echoed back again through the
hollow building from the far end of the chancel.

'What a thing to say!' he exclaimed; 'surely a pure kiss is not
inappropriate to the place!'

'No,' she replied, with a swelling heart; 'I don't know why I burst out
so--I can't tell what has come over me! Will you forgive me?'

'How shall I say "Yes" without judging you? How shall I say "No" without
losing the pleasure of saying "Yes?"' He was himself again.

'I don't know,' she absently murmured.

'I'll say "Yes,"' he answered daintily. 'It is sweeter to fancy we
are forgiven, than to think we have not sinned; and you shall have the
sweetness without the need.'

She did not reply, and they moved away. The church was nearly dark now,
and melancholy in the extreme. She stood beside him whil