hour is precious now, and you will understand why I urge you
so impatiently when I tell you that I can never again enter the house
where you are now residing."

"I knew it. I saw it clearly from the first word you uttered. It was
revealed to me in the very tone of your voice. Now hear me patiently.
Your peace, your honor, all feelings that contribute to the respect and
happiness of life, are at stake upon this moment."

The determination of her manner left me no choice but to listen.

"Are you prepared to risk all other ties, obligations, and prospects, in
the consummation of this one object? to hazard friends, opinion, the
world--perhaps it may be, to sacrifice them for the love that has grown
up between us, and which, for good or evil, must this day bind us
together, or sever us for the rest of our lives?"

"What a question to put to me! The 'world!' it is ashes without you. I
tell you, Astraea, that if the choice lay between the grave and the
single word that would sunder us, I would die rather than utter it. I
don't know what your question implies--I don't seek to know; and would
prefer to remain ignorant of it, that I may the more clearly prove to
you the depth of my trust and devotion, which will be satisfied with the
simple pledge that makes you mine. That, at least, you have in your own
power; let me answer for the rest."

"Consider well what you are saying. Is your love strong enough to bear
the hazards I have pointed out? Search your own nature--look into your
pride, your sensitiveness to neglect and censure, your high sense of
personal dignity. I have seen how ill you can brook slight affronts--do
you believe that your love will enable you to bear great ones--scorn,
contumely, perhaps opprobrium? Think, think, and weigh well your
decision."

"Astraea, you put me upon the rack. I have no other answer to give. For
you, and for your sake, come what may, I am ready to risk all!"

"For me and for my sake, if it be necessary, to forsake the world? to
relinquish friends and kindred? to dedicate yourself in solitude to her
who, in solitude, would be content to find her whole world in you? To do
this, without repining, without looking back with anguish and remorse
upon the sacrifices you had made, without a regret or a reproach? A
woman can do this. Is it so sure there lives a man equal to such
trials?"

"If these sacrifices be imperative upon us, we make them together. There
can be nothing for either of us t