I love you, and you are my wild flower, are you not? Speak to me, call
me your Louis! Love me, as I do you. Ah! if you did not love me I could
not stay here till to-morrow--you think me young and presumptuous--you
say I do not know myself and I will change--I will not change--I am not
young--I want great love, such as comes to me through your eyes, to help
me--and you love me--you are my precious wild flower--I shall live for
you and my little mother."

No word had escaped my lips, and now he paused, and looking at me, said:

"Tell me if you do not love me!--tell me, Emily."

Why did I--how could I answer him as I did--so cold; my voice fell upon
my own ear as I said slowly:

"I don't know, Louis--you are so strange."

What an answer! He quivered and the tears came to his eyes; he dashed
them aside and said:

"How long shall I wait for you? say it now and help me; your spirit
loves me; I can hear it speak to me."

I thought for the moment he was crazed. He divined my thought and said:

"No, not crazy, but I want your help."

"Oh, Louis!" I cried, "I don't know, I am so ignorant--why was I born
so? don't treat me unkindly, you are dear to me, dear, but I can't
talk."