they stood threw a
deep shadow over them, and Aspel did not observe it. He therefore
continued--in a quiet, brotherly way--

"Ah! May, it is cruel of you to ask that. You know that I have been
unfit--"

"Nay, I did not mean _that_," interrupted May, with eager anxiety; "I
meant that since--since--lately, you know--why did you not come?"

"True, May, I might have come lately--praise be to God!--but, but--why
should I not speak out? It's all over now. You know the love I once
bore you, May, which you told me I must not speak of, and which I have
tried to cure with all the energy of my heart, for I do not want to lose
you as a sister--an old playmate at least--though I may not have you
as--But, as I said, it's all over now. I promise never again to intrude
this subject on you. Let me rather tell you of the glorious work in
which I am at present engaged."

He stopped, for, in spite of his efforts to be brotherly, there was a
sense of sinking at his heart which slightly embittered his tone.

"Is true love, then, so easily cured?"

May looked up in his face as she asked the question. There was
something in the look and in the tone which caused George Aspel's heart
to beat like a sledge-hammer. He stooped down, and, looking into her
eyes,--still in a brotherly way, said--

"Is it possible, May, that you could trifle with my feelings?"

"No, it is not possible," she answered promptly.

"Oh! May," continued Aspel, in a low, earnest tone; "if I could only
dare to think,--to believe,--to hope, that--"

"Forgive me, May, I'm so sorry," cried her brother Phil, as he sprang up
the steps; "I did my best to hurry through with it. I'm afraid I've
kept you and George waiting very long."

"Not at all," replied May, with unquestionable truth.

"If you could have only kept us waiting five minutes longer!" thought
Aspel, but he only said--"Come along, Phil, I'll go home with you
to-night."

The evening was fine--frosty and clear.

"Shall we walk to Nottinghill?" asked Phil. "It's a longish tramp for
you, May, but that's the very thing you want."

May agreed that it was a desirable thing in every point of view, and
George Aspel did not object.

As they walked along, the latter began to wonder whether a new
experiment had been made lately in the way of paving the streets with
india-rubber. As for May, she returned such ridiculous answers to the
simplest questions, that Phil became almost anxious about her, and