ot judge me hastily," she said. "I am not like the fair, cold girls
of this northern clime. My father had Spanish blood in his veins, and
some of it flows in mine. My music went deep into my heart, and my heart
cried aloud for one kind word from you."

"Am I not always kind, Coralie?"

"Ah, yes, with that cold, English kindness which kills even sooner than
your keen frost and biting winds. I want something more than this cruel
kindness. Oh, cousin, can you not see I love you? I love you--ah,
heaven, how dearly!--and I want your love in return."

Believe me, reader, I was speechless. I would fain have raised her, have
told her, in short, sharp words, that what she was saying branded her as
unmaidenly and indiscreet; but I was powerless either to move or to
speak.

"I loved you," she said, "the first moment I saw you. You are not like
other men, Sir Edgar. You are so generous, so simply truthful, so noble.
No wonder that I love you; no wonder that I look proud of my love. Ah,
me! ah, me! would that I knew how to tell you! Give me your love; you
shall never repent it. I will make home heaven for you. Men say that I
have beauty and talent. Ah, me! I would use every gift I have for you;
help you to win high honors that cold, unambitious natures never dream
of. Ah, love me; love me, cousin! You will find no one else so true!"

Her face paled with passion; her glorious eyes, dim with tears, were
raised to mine.

"Forgive me that I have spoken first. I should have died with my love. I
know that other women in my place would have done so. I could not; life
is strong within me. I could not die here, tortured to death by inches,
without telling you. Ah, say to me that I shall not die!"

Weak words of mine cannot tell the passionate music of her voice, the
passionate beauty of her face.

"You do not speak to me; you cannot forgive me that I have not borne my
love and sorrow in silence until it killed me. Ah, see what love must
mine be to make me to speak to you, to make me kneel to you, asking for
my life, my life!" and as she uttered the words her head dropped on my
arm, and her wealth of golden-brown hair fell over me.

God knows I would have given worlds to have rushed away. Never was man
more unwillingly drawn into an embarrassing situation. And that very day
Agatha had promised to be my wife. It was high time I said something.
Gently as my patience and embarrassment would allow me, I raised the
girl.

"Coralie," I