ve for her was chiefly a man's
admiration. And bodily she looked worthy now of all that could be done
in that way, with the light flowing in through the budded arch and
flashing upon the sweet flush of her cheeks. Carne gazed at her without
a word or thought, simply admiring, as he never had admired anything,
except himself, till now. Then she felt all the meaning of his gaze, and
turned away.

"But you must look at me and tell me something," he said, in a low
voice, and taking both her hands; "you shall tell me what my fate must
be. Whether you can ever come to love me, as I have loved you, long and
long."

"You have no right to speak to me like that," she answered, still
avoiding his eyes, and striving to show proper anger; "no gentleman
would think of taking advantage of a lady so."

"I care not what is right or wrong. Look up, and tell me that you hate
me. Dolly, I suppose you do."

"Then you are quite wrong"--she gave him one bright glance of
contradiction; "no. I have always been so sorry for you, and for all
your troubles. You must not ask me to say more."

"But I must; I must. That is the very thing that I must do. Only say
that you love me, Dolly. Dolly darling, tell me that. Or let your lovely
eyes say it for you."

"My lovely eyes must not tell stories"--they were gazing softly at him
now--"and I don't think I can say it--yet."

"But you will--you shall!" he exclaimed, with passion growing as he drew
her near; "you shall not slip from me, you shall not stir, until you
have answered me one question--is there anybody else, my Dolly?"

"You frighten me. You forget who I am. Of course there are a great many
else, as you call it; and I am not to be called, for a moment, YOUR
DOLLY."

"No, not for a moment, but forever." Carne was accustomed to the ways of
girls, and read all their words by the light of their eyes. "Your
little heart begins to know who loves it better than all the world
put together. And for that reason I will leave you now. Farewell, my
darling; I conquer myself, for the sake of what is worth a thousand of
it."

Dolly was in very sad confusion, and scarcely knew what she might do
next--that is to say, if he still went on. Pleasant conceit and bright
coquetry ill supply the place of honest pride and gentle self-respect,
such as Faith was blest with. Carne might have kissed Dolly a hundred
times, without much resistance, for his stronger will had mastered hers;
but she would have hated