bject
for the first time in my life), it is a poor return for the interest I
have taken in you; and for the real love you know I feel towards you!"

For a moment Reuben's large dark eyes glanced up at Theodore's face;
but they sank again as quickly: his cheeks grew crimson, and tears
rolled over them which he could not conceal.

"What is the matter, Reuben; what is the meaning of this? Am I loving
one who does not love me in return?"

"You _cannot_ love me, Sir!" ejaculated the boy so earnestly that it
quite startled his companion.

"Reuben, what _can_ you mean? Have you forgotten how I have taken you
and acted by you as if I had been your Father. I _cannot love_ you?
What else but _love_ for you has made me do what I have done?"

"That was all your goodness and the kindness of your heart, Sir. You
couldn't love me when you picked me up in the road. It was pity and
kindness, and it has been the same ever since; not _Love_--" and the
tears again struggled to his eyes.

Theodore rushed suddenly from the room and into his private apartment,
and falling on his knees, spread his hands over his head in prayer.
"My Lord and my God!" cried he solemnly, "what means this echo from my
own heart? Am I awake, or do I dream?" A profound silence was around
him; but, as he arose and opened his eyes, he beheld before him,
though fading rapidly from his sight, the angelic visions he had seen
two years before.

* * * * *

He returned to Reuben, who was sitting at the table, his face buried
in his arms.

Theodore laid his hand upon him. "Reuben, look up! You are under a
great mistake. You are but a boy, and must not fancy you know the ins
and outs of the human heart. Reuben, I do love you, and have always
loved you."

"You cannot, Sir!"

"Again? and why not?"

"You are too much above me; I am an outcast, and was a beggar. It
wasn't likely you could _love_ me at any time. Besides, there has been
something since."

"What?"

"You told me to forget it, Sir, but I cannot. After all your kindness
and goodness, and trying to make me happy and do me every good, I was
all along (during the first year), doing what was wrong, deceiving you
and injuring you. I am not only an outcast, but I have been wicked and
ungrateful, and made you unhappy by my misconduct. Indeed I cannot
bear to think of it; but I dare not deceive myself about your _Love_,
Sir! I know you _cannot_ love me; but I am so grateful to