wretched that she was thrown into
a passion of fear.

She tossed her work away in a second, and, making one of her little
rushes at him, was caught in his arms and half suffocated. She knew
the instant she caught sight of his face what he was suffering, though
perhaps she did not know the worst.

"Oh, why will you?" she cried out, in tears, all at once. "It is cruel!
You are as pale as death, and I know--I know so well what it means."

"Tell me you will never forget what we have been to each other,"
he said, when he could speak; "tell me you don't care for that
fellow,--tell me you love me, Dolly, tell me you love me."

She did not hesitate a moment; she had never flirted with Griffith
in her life, and she knew him too well to try him when he wore that
desperate, feverish look of longing in his eyes. She burst into an
impetuous sob, and clung to him with both hands.

"I love you with all my soul," she said. "I will never _let_ you give
me up; and as to forgetting, I might die, but I could never forget. Care
for Ralph Go wan! I love _you_, Griffith, I love _you!_"

"And you don't regret?" he said, piteously. "Oh, Dolly, just think of
what _he_ could give you; and then think of our hopeless dreams about
miserable six-roomed houses and cheap furniture."

"You will make me hate him," cried Dolly, her gust of love and pity
making her fierce. "I don't want anything anybody could give me. I only
want you, _dear_ old fellow,--_darling_ old fellow," holding him fast,
as if she would never let him go, and shedding a shower of impassioned,
tender tears. "Oh, my darling, only wait until I am your own wife, and
see how happy I will be, and how happy I will make you,--for I _can_
make you happy,--and see how I will work in our little home for your
sake, and how content I will be with a little. Oh, what must I do to
show you how I love you! Do you think I could have cared for Ralph Gowan
all these years as I have cared for you? No indeed; but I shall care for
you forever, and I would wait for you a _thousand_ years if I might only
be your wife, and die in your arms at the end of it."

And she believed every word she said, too, and would have been willing
to lay down her young life to prove it, extravagant as it may all sound
to the discreet. And she quite believed, too, that she could never have
so loved any other man than this unlucky, jealous, tempestuous one; but
I will take the liberty of saying that this was a mistake, f