" I stammered.

"Not you, but I, ... and now it is plain to me why, unwedded, I stand
yoked together with my honor, and you stand apart, fettered to yours....
We have shaken our chains in play, the links still hold firm and bright;
but if we break them, then, as they snap, our honor dies forever. For
what I have done in idle ignorance forgive me, and leave me to my
penance, ... which must last for all my life, cousin.... And you will
forget.... Hush! dearest lad, and let me speak. Well, then I will say
that I pray you may forget! Well, then I will not say that to grieve
you.... I wish you to remember--yet not know the pain that I--"

"Dorothy, Dorothy, do you still love me?"

"Oh, I do love you!... No, no! I ask you to spare me even the touch of
your hand! I ask it, I beg you to spare me! I implore--Be a shield to
me! Aid me, cousin. I ask it for the Ormond honor and for the honor of
the roof that shelters us both!... Now do you understand?... Oh, I
knew you to be all that I adore and worship!

* * * * *

Our fault was in our ignorance. How could we know of that hidden fire
within us, stirring its chilled embers in all innocence until the flames
flashed out and clothed us both in glory, cousin? Heed me, lest it turn
to flames of hell!

* * * * *

And now, dear lad, lest you should deem me mad to cut short the happy
time we had to hope for, I must tell you what I have never told before.
All that we have in all the world is by charity of Sir George. He stood
in the breach when the Cosby heirs made ready to foreclose on father; he
held off the Van Rensselaers; he threw the sop to Billy Livingston and
to that great villain, Klock. To-day, unsecured, his loans to my father,
still unpaid, have nigh beggared him. And the little he has he is about
to risk in this war whose tides are creeping on us through this
very night.

* * * * *

And when he honored me by asking me in marriage, I, knowing all this,
knowing all his goodness and his generosity--though he was not aware I
knew it--I was thankful to say yes--deeming it little enough to please
him--and I not knowing what love meant--"

Her soft voice broke; she laid her hands on her eyes, and stood so,
speaking blindly. "What can I do, cousin? What can I do? Tell me! I love
you. Tell me, use me kindly; teach me to do right and keep my honor
bright as you could desire it were I