u are severe on me! Heaven knows I have never spoken one word
of love to Nora."

"'Never spoken one word!' What of that? What need of words? Are not
glances, are not tones, far more eloquent than words? With these glances
and tones you have a thousand times assured my young sister that you
love her, that you adore her, that you worship her!"

"Hannah, if my eyes spoke this language to Nora, they spoke Heaven's own
truth! There! I have told you more than I ever told her, for to her my
eyes only have spoken!" said the young man fervently.

"Of what were you talking with your heads so close together this
morning?" asked Hannah abruptly.

"How do I know? Of birds, of flowers, moonshine, or some such rubbish. I
was not heeding my words."

"No, your eyes were too busy! And now, Mr. Brudenell, I repeat my
question: Was yours a manly part--discoursing all this love to Nora, and
having no ultimate intentions?"

"Hannah, I never questioned my conscience upon that point; I was too
happy for such cross-examination."

"But now the question is forced upon you, Mr. Brudenell, and we must
have an answer now and here."

"Then, Hannah, I will answer truly! I love Nora; and if I were free to
marry, I would make her my wife to-morrow; but I am not; therefore I
have been wrong, and very wrong, to seek her society. I acted, however,
from want of thought, not from want of principle; I hope you will
believe that, Hannah."

"I do believe it, Mr. Brudenell."

"And now I put myself in your hands, Hannah! Direct me as you think
best; I will obey you. What shall I do?"

"See Nora no more; from this day absent yourself from our house."

He turned pale as death, reeled, and supported himself against the trunk
of a friendly tree.

Hannah looked at him, and from the bottom of her heart she pitied him;
for she knew what love was--loving Reuben.

"Mr. Brudenell," she said, "do not take this to heart so much: why
should you, indeed, when you know that your fate is in your own hands?
You are master of your own destiny, and no man who is so should give way
to despondency. The alternative before you is simply this: to cease to
visit Nora, or to marry her. To do the first you must sacrifice your
love, to do the last you must sacrifice your pride. Now choose between
the courses of action! Gratify your love or your pride, as you see fit,
and cheerfully pay down the price! This seems to me to be the only
manly, the only rational, course."

"O