e.

They gazed into the clear little well at their feet, seeing all the
round variegated pebbles at the bottom glistening like jewels as the
branches above, moved by a fresh wind that was stirring in the sky, made
the checkered light dance over the surface. There was a green leaf
broken by some chance from a bough above which floated about upon the
water as the air fanned it gently, now hither, now thither, now gilded
by the sunshine, now covered with dim shadow. After pausing in silence
for a moment or two, Marlow pointed to the leaf with a light and
seemingly careless smile, saying, "See how it floats about, Emily. That
leaf is like a young heart full of love."

"Indeed," said Emily, looking full in his face with a look of inquiry,
for perhaps she thought that in his smile she might find an
interpretation of what was going on in her own bosom. "Indeed! How so?"

"Do you not see," said Marlow, "how it is blown about by the softest
breath, which stirs not the less sensitive things around, how it is
carried by any passing air now into bright hopeful light, now into dim
melancholy shadow?"

"And is that like love?" asked Emily. "I should have thought it was all
brightness."

"Ay, happy love--love returned," replied Marlow, "but where there is
uncertainty, a doubt, there hope and fear make alternately the light and
shade of love, and the lightest breath will bear the heart from the one
extreme to the other--I know it from the experience of the last three
days, Emily; for since last we met I too have fluctuated between the
light and shade. Your father's consent has given a momentary gleam of
hope, but it is only you who can make the light permanent."

Emily shook, and her eyes were bent down upon the water; but she
remained silent so long that Marlow became even more agitated than
herself. "I know not what I feel," she murmured at length,--"it is very
strange."

"But hear me, Emily," said Marlow, taking her unresisting hand, "I do
not ask an immediate answer to my suit. If you regard me with any
favor--if I am not perfectly indifferent to you, let me try to improve
any kindly feelings in your heart towards me in the bright hope of
winning you at last for my own, my wife. The uncertainty may be
painful--must be painful; but--"

"No, no, Marlow," cried Emily, raising her eyes to his face for an
instant with her cheek all glowing, "there must be no uncertainty. Do
you think I would keep you--you, in such a painful st