t thinking of me while you wept?' This was unendurable. I made
an effort to rise, but he was kneeling on my dress.

'Tell me,' continued he--'I want to know,--because if you were, I have
something to say to you,--and if not, I'll go.'

'Go then!' I cried; but, fearing he would obey too well, and never come
again, I hastily added--'Or say what you have to say, and have done with
it!'

'But which?' said he--'for I shall only say it if you really were
thinking of me. So tell me, Helen.'

'You're excessively impertinent, Mr. Huntingdon!'

'Not at all--too pertinent, you mean. So you won't tell me?--Well, I'll
spare your woman's pride, and, construing your silence into "Yes," I'll
take it for granted that I was the subject of your thoughts, and the
cause of your affliction--'

'Indeed, sir--'

'If you deny it, I won't tell you my secret,' threatened he; and I did
not interrupt him again, or even attempt to repulse him: though he had
taken my hand once more, and half embraced me with his other arm, I was
scarcely conscious of it at the time.

'It is this,' resumed he: 'that Annabella Wilmot, in comparison with you,
is like a flaunting peony compared with a sweet, wild rosebud gemmed with
dew--and I love you to distraction!--Now, tell me if that intelligence
gives you any pleasure. Silence again? That means yes. Then let me
add, that I cannot live without you, and if you answer No to this last
question, you will drive me mad.--Will you bestow yourself upon me?--you
will!' he cried, nearly squeezing me to death in his arms.

'No, no!' I exclaimed, struggling to free myself from him--'you must ask
my uncle and aunt.'

'They won't refuse me, if you don't.'

'I'm not so sure of that--my aunt dislikes you.'

'But you don't, Helen--say you love me, and I'll go.'

'I wish you would go!' I replied.

'I will, this instant,--if you'll only say you love me.'

'You know I do,' I answered. And again he caught me in his arms, and
smothered me with kisses.

At that moment my aunt opened wide the door, and stood before us, candle
in hand, in shocked and horrified amazement, gazing alternately at Mr.
Huntingdon and me--for we had both started up, and now stood wide enough
asunder. But his confusion was only for a moment. Rallying in an
instant, with the most enviable assurance, he began,--'I beg ten thousand
pardons, Mrs. Maxwell! Don't be too severe upon me. I've been asking
your sweet niece to take me for bett