was come to declare the love in words, and ratify it by a plighted
troth, there was something in the act so solemn as almost to disturb
their dream of a lover's paradise.

They sat silent on the rock until the sun had set behind the peaks of
snow, and their eyes were filled with idle yet delicious tears. Ripples
of luminous sunshine, and banks of primrose-coloured cloud still
lingered on the path which the sun had traversed, and, when even these
began to fade, there stole along the hill crests above them a film of
tender colour, flinging a veil of the softest carnation over their cold
grey rocks, and untrodden fields of perpetual snow.

"Look, Violet, at that rose-colour on the hills; does it not seem as it
rests on those chill ledges, as though Nature had said that her last act
to-day should be a triumph of glory, and her last thought a thought of
love?"

Violet murmured an assent.

"Oh, Violet," he continued, "you know that I love you, and I know that
you love me;--is it not so, Violet?"

He hardly heard the "Yes," which came half like a sigh from her lips.

"Violet, dear Violet, we part to-morrow; let me hear you say `Yes' more
clearly still."

"You know I love you, Edward--did you not save my life?"

"I know you love me," he repeated slowly, "but, oh Violet, I am not
worthy of you--I am not all you think me." There passed over his fair
forehead the expression of humiliation and pain which she had seen there
with wonder once or twice before.

"You are good and noble, Edward," she answered; "I see you to be good
and noble, or I could not love you as I do."

"No," he said, "alas! not good, not noble, Violet--in no wise worthy of
one so pure, and bright, and beautiful as you are." He bent his face
over her hand, and his warm tears fell fast upon it. "But," he
continued, "I will strive to be so hereafter, Violet, for your sweet
sake. Oh, can you take me as I am? Will you make me good and noble,
Violet, as Julian is? Can you let the sunshine of your life fall on the
shadow of mine?"

She did not understand his passion as he raised to her his face, not
bright and laughing as it generally was, but stained with the traces of
many tears; she only knew that he had won her whole heart, and for one
moment she let her hand rest in the curls of the head which he had bent
once more.

"Oh, Violet," he said, looking up again, "I can be anything if you love
me." In an instant the cloud had passed away from his f