word in my own behalf. So I spoke very freely
and told Jane what I felt and what I wanted.

"Oh! Sir Edwin," she responded, "let us not think of anything but my
mistress. Think of the trouble she is in."

"No! no! Jane; Lady Mary is out of her trouble by now, and is as happy
as a lark, you may be sure. Has she not won everything her heart
longed for? Then let us make our own paradise, since we have helped
them make theirs. You have it, Jane, just within your lips; speak the
word and it will change everything--if you love me, and I know you
do."

Jane's head was bowed and she remained silent.

Then I told her of Lady Mary's message, and begged, if she would not
speak in words what I so longed to hear, she would at least tell it by
allowing me to deliver only one little thousandth part of the message
Mary had sent; but she drew away and said she would return to the
castle if I continued to behave in that manner. I begged hard, and
tried to argue the point, but logic seems to lose its force in such a
situation, and all I said availed nothing. Jane was obdurate, and was
for going back at once. Her persistence was beginning to look like
obstinacy, and I soon grew so angry that I asked no permission, but
delivered Mary's message, or a good part of it, at least, whether she
would or no, and then sat back and asked her what she was going to do
about it.

Poor little Jane thought she was undone for life. She sat there half
pouting, half weeping, and said she could do nothing about it; that
she was alone now, and if I, her only friend, would treat her that
way, she did not know where to look.

"Where to look?" I demanded. "Look _here_, Jane, here; you might as
well understand, first as last, that I will not be trifled with
longer, and that I intend to continue treating you that way as long as
we both live. I have determined not to permit you to behave as you
have for so long; for I know you love me. You have half told me so a
dozen times, and even your half words are whole truths; there is not a
fraction of a lie in you. Besides, Mary told me that you told her so."

"She did not tell you that?"

"Yes; upon my knightly honor." Of course there was but one answer to
this--tears. I then brought the battle to close quarters at once, and,
with my arm uninterrupted at my lady's waist, asked:

"Did you not tell her so? I know you will speak nothing but the truth.
Did you not tell her? Answer me, Jane." The fair head nodded as