instant that Leon's awakening came to him. In presence
of a danger which threatened to deprive him forever of the girl beside
him, he became suddenly aware of the fact that she was essential to
his future happiness. At last he knew that he loved Agnes, and from
his silence as he took her home, and the tenderness of his tones at
parting, Agnes instantly knew that he had been aroused. She already
began to look forward to their next meeting, and to wonder whether he
would at once unbosom himself. She meant to help him as much as
possible. Poor fellow! He would be very much abashed, she had no
doubt. She would not be coy and tantalizing as so many girls are. She
thought that such affectation would be beneath her. Her sense of
justice forbade it. No! She would be very nice to him. She would show
no signs of uneasiness as he floundered about seeking words. She would
wait patiently for what he would say, and then, when he had said the
words, why, then--well, then it would be time enough at that sweet
moment to decide what to do. She would make him happy, at any rate. Of
that she was determined. There should be no ambiguity about her reply.
And in this mood the girl awaited the wooing.

Leon did not sleep at all that night, or if he slumbered, it was only
to dream of Agnes. A hundred times he saw her mangled beneath the
hoofs of that runaway horse, and suffered agonies in consequence; each
time awakening with a start, to find beads of perspiration upon his
brow. Again his vision was more pleasing, and in dream-land he
imagined himself united to Agnes, and living happily ever afterward,
as all proper books tell us that married lovers do. At last the day
dawned, and with impatience he awaited that hour when with propriety
he could call upon his sweetheart. He had a very good excuse, for by
accident, (_sic?_) he had left his umbrella at the house the day
before, and already it was growing cloudy. He might need it, and
therefore of course he should go for it before it should actually
begin to rain.

It was scarcely noon when Leon was announced to Agnes, who was in her
morning room, sipping a cup of chocolate, and wondering when he would
come. And now he was here. She expected to find him _distrait_, and
lacking in manner and speech, as she had seen him in the dawning of
his passion. She was therefore wholly unprepared for what followed. If
Leon had been bashful in her presence when he did not comprehend the
cause of his disconce