and throwing
himself back on the sofa, he covered his face with his hand, as though
to hide his pallor and the convulsive quivering of his lips from her
whom he was reluctant to grieve. Emboldened by her fears, Caroline
advanced, and laying her hand on his, exclaimed, "What is the
matter?--Are you ill?--your mother?--pray do not keep me in suspense,
but tell me what has happened."

He seemed to have mastered his emotion, from whatever cause it had
proceeded; for removing his hand, he looked earnestly upon her, and
drawing her to a seat beside him, said in firm, though sad tones, "That
has happened, Caroline, which would not move me thus, but for your dear
sake--I asked you last night to share my fortune--to-day I have none to
offer you."

"Gracious heaven!" exclaimed Caroline, turning as pale as he, "what do
you mean?"

"That in the fire last night, or the failures which the most sanguine
assure me it must produce, my whole fortune is involved. If I can
recover from the wreck what will secure to my poor mother the
continuance of her accustomed comforts, it will be beyond my hopes; for
me--the luxuries, the comforts, the very necessaries of life must be the
produce of my own exertion. I do not ask you to share my poverty,
Caroline; I cannot be so selfish; had I not spoken of my love last
night, you should never have heard it--though it had been like a burning
fire, I would have shut it up within my heart--but it is too late for
this; you have heard it, and I have heard--the remembrance brings with
it a wild delirious joy, even in this hour of darkness "--and the pale
face of Philip Oswald flushed, and his dimmed eye beamed brightly again
as he spoke: "I have heard your sweet confession of reciprocal regard.
Months, perhaps years may pass before I attain the goal at which I last
night thought myself to have already arrived--before I can dare to call
you mine--but in our land, manly determination and perseverance ever
command success, and I fear not to promise you, dearest, one day a happy
home--though not a splendid one--if you will promise me to share it.
Look on me, Caroline--give me one smile to light me on my way--with such
a hope before me, I cannot say my _dreary_ way."

He ceased, yet Caroline neither looked upon him, nor spoke. Her cheek
had grown pale at his words, and she sat down with downcast eyes, cold,
still, statue-like at his side. Yet did not Philip Oswald doubt her
love. Had not her eye kindled and