es. Presently she said: 'I want just to be assured that you thought
more wisely than when you left us last night.'

'More wisely?' Evan turned to her with a playful smile.

'My dear brother! you did not do what you said you would do?'

'Have you ever known me not to do what I said I would do?'

'Evan! Good heaven! you did it? Then how can you remain here an instant?
Oh, no, no!--say no, darling!'

'Where is Louisa?' he inquired.

'She is in her room. She will never appear at breakfast, if she knows
this.'

'Perhaps more solitude would do her good,' said Evan.

'Remember, if this should prove true, think how you punish her!'

On that point Evan had his own opinion.

'Well, I shall never have to punish you in this way, my love, he said
fondly, and Caroline dropped her eyelids.

'Don't think that I am blaming her,' he added, trying to feel as
honestly as he spoke. 'I was mad to come here. I see it all now. Let
us keep to our place. We are all the same before God till we disgrace
ourselves.' Possibly with that sense of shame which some young people
have who are not professors of sounding sentences, or affected by
missionary zeal, when they venture to breathe the holy name, Evan
blushed, and walked on humbly silent. Caroline murmured: 'Yes, yes! oh,
brother!' and her figure drew to him as if for protection. Pale, she
looked up.

'Shall you always love me, Evan?'

'Whom else have I to love?'

'But always--always? Under any circumstances?'

'More and more, dear. I always have, and shall. I look to you now. I
have no home but in your heart now.'

She was agitated, and he spoke warmly to calm her.

The throb of deep emotion rang in her rich voice. 'I will live any life
to be worthy of your love, Evan,' and she wept.

To him they were words and tears without a history.

Nothing further passed between them. Caroline went to the Countess: Evan
waited for Rose. The sun was getting high. The face of the stream glowed
like metal. Why did she not come? She believed him guilty from the mouth
of another? If so, there was something less for him to lose. And now the
sacrifice he had made did whisper a tale of mortal magnificence in his
ears: feelings that were not his noblest stood up exalted. He waited
till the warm meadow-breath floating past told that the day had settled
into heat, and then he waited no more, but quietly walked into the house
with the strength of one who has conquered more than human scorn.