comprehending her words, and
she perceived in the midst of her distress that it was needful that
she should explain herself. "I have loved Ralph always;--yes, your
brother."

"And he?"

"I will not accuse him in anything. He is married now, and it is
past."

"And you can never love again?"

"Who would take such a heart as that? It would not be worth the
giving or worth the taking. Oh--how I loved him!" Then he left her
side, and went back to the window, while she sank back upon her
chair, and, burying her face in her hands, gave way to tears and
sobs. He stood there perhaps for a minute, and then returning to her,
so gently that she did not hear him, he did kneel at her side. He
knelt, and putting his hand upon her arm, he kissed the sleeve of her
gown. "You had better go from me now," she said, amidst her sobs.

"I will never go from you again," he answered. "God's mercy can cure
also that wound, and I will be his minister in healing it. Clarissa,
I am so glad that you have told me all. Looking back I can understand
it now. I once thought that it was so."

"Yes," she said, "yes; it was so."

Gradually one hand of hers fell into his, and though no word of
acceptance had been spoken he knew that he was at last accepted. "My
own Clary," he said. "I may call you my own?" There was no answer,
but he knew that it was so. "Nothing shall be done to trouble
you;--nothing shall be said to press you. You may be sure of this, if
it be good to be loved,--that no woman was ever loved more tenderly
than you are."

"I do know it," she said, through her tears.

Then he rose and stood again at the window, looking out upon the lawn
and the river. She was still weeping, but he hardly heeded her tears.
It was better for her that she should weep than restrain them. And,
as to himself and his own feelings,--he tried to question himself,
whether, in truth, was he less happy in this great possession, which
he had at last gained, because his brother had for a while interfered
with him in gaining it? That she would be as true to him now, as
tender and as loving, as though Ralph had never crossed her path,
he did not for a moment doubt. That she would be less sweet to him
because her sweetness had been offered to another he would not admit
to himself,--even though the question were asked. She would be all
his own, and was she not the one thing in the world which he coveted?
He did think that for such a one as his Clarissa he would be