r. Harper said: "It is time, Agatha"--he
paused, and added--"dear Agatha--quite time that we should talk a
little about what concerns our happiness--at least mine."

She looked at him--saw how earnest he was, and put down her work. The
softness of her manner soothed him.

"I know, dear Agatha, that it is very wrong in me; but sometimes I can
hardly believe this is all true, and that you really promised--what I
heard from your own lips two days ago. Will you--out of that good heart
of yours--say it again?"

"What must I say?"

"That you love--no, I don't mean that--but that you care for me a
little--enough to trust me with your happiness? Do you?"

For all reply, Agatha held out the hand she had drawn back. Her lover
kept it tight in that peculiar grasp of his--very soft and still, but
firm as adamant.

"Thank you. You shall never regret your trust. My brother told me all
you said to him on Saturday morning. I know you do not quite love me
yet."

Agatha started, it was so true.

"Still, as you have loved no one else--you are sure of that?"

She thought a minute, then lifted her candid eyes, and answered:

"Yes, quite sure!"

He, watching her closely, betrayed himself so far as to give an inward
thankful sigh.

"Then, Agatha, since I love you, I am not afraid."

"Nor I," she answered, and a tear fell, for she was greatly moved. Her
betrothed put his arm round her, softly and timidly, as if unfamiliar
with actions of tenderness; but she trembled so much that, still softly,
he let her go, only keeping firm hold of her hand, apparently to show
that no power on earth, gentle or strong, should wrest that from him.

A few minutes after, he began speaking of his affairs, of which Agatha
was in a state of entire ignorance. She said, jestingly--for they had
fallen into quite familiar jesting now, and were laughing together like
a couple of children--that she had not the least idea whether she were
about to marry a prince or a beggar.

"No," answered her lover, smiling at her unworldliness, and thereby
betraying that, innocent as he looked, his was not the innocence of
ignorance. "No; but I am not exactly a prince, and as a beggar I should
certainly be too proud to marry _you_."

"Indeed! Why?"

"Because I understand you are a very rich young lady (I don't know
how rich, for I never thought of the subject or inquired about it till
to-day), while I am only able to earn my income year by year. Yet it is
a good