"Helen, then—dear Helen!" I murmured. I was in an agony of mingled love, hope, delight, uncertainty, and suspense.
"The rose I gave you was an emblem of my heart," said she; "would you take it away and leave me here alone?"
"Would you give me your hand too, if I asked it?"
"Have I not said enough?" she answered with a most enchanting smile. I snatched her hand and would have fervently kissed it, but suddenly checked myself and said,—
"But have you considered the consequences?"
"Hardly, I think, or I should not have offered myself to one too proud to take me, or too indifferent to make his affection outweigh my worldly goods."
Stupid blockhead that I was!—I trembled to clasp her in my arms, but dared not believe in so much joy, and yet restrained myself to say,—
