ce wish me
success; but she might still feel some uneasiness for an only brother.
We are but two--"

Maud started, as if some frightful object glared before her eyes; then
she sat in breathless silence, resolute to hear what would come next.
But Robert Willoughby meant to pursue that idea no farther. He had so
accustomed himself--had endeavoured even so to accustom himself to
think of Beulah as his only sister, that the words escaped him
unconsciously. They were no sooner uttered, however, than the
recollection of their possible effect on Maud crossed his mind.
Profoundly ignorant of the true nature of her feelings towards himself,
he had ever shrunk from a direct avowal of his own sentiments, lest he
might shock her; as a sister's ear would naturally be wounded by a
declaration of attachment from a brother; and there were bitter moments
when he fancied delicacy and honour would oblige him to carry his
secret with him to the grave. Two minutes of frank communication might
have dissipated all these scruples for ever; but, how to obtain those
minutes, or how to enter on the subject at all, were obstacles that
often appeared insurmountable to the young man. As for Maud, she but
imperfectly understood her own heart--true, she had conscious glimpses
of its real state; but, it was through those sudden and ungovernable
impulses that were so strangely mingled with her affections. It was
years, indeed, since she had ceased to think of Robert Willoughby as a
brother, and had begun to view him with different eyes; still, she
struggled with her feelings, as against a weakness. The captain and his
wife were her parents; Beulah her dearly, dearly beloved sister; little
Evert her nephew; and even the collaterals, in and about Albany, came
in for a due share of her regard; while Bob, though called Bob as
before; though treated with a large portion of the confidence that was
natural to the intimacy of her childhood; though loved with a
tenderness he would have given even his high-prized commission to know,
was no longer thought of as a brother. Often did Maud find herself
thinking, if never saying, "Beulah may do that, for Beulah is his
sister; but it would be wrong in me. I may write to him, talk freely
and even confidentially with him, and be affectionate to him; all this
is right, and I should be the most ungrateful creature on earth to act
differently; but I cannot sit on his knee as Beulah sometimes does; I
cannot throw my arms ar