it comes to the point of asking him for such a treasure, I feel my
deficiencies."

"Why, what deficiencies? You are young, and handsome, and good, and ever
so much cleverer than other people. You have only to ask for me, and
insist on having me. Come, dear, go and get it over." She added, mighty
coolly, "There is nothing so DREADFUL as suspense."

"I'll go this minute," said he, and took a step towards the door; but he
turned, and in a moment was at her knees. He took both her hands in his,
and pressed them to his beating bosom, while his beautiful eyes poured
love into hers point-blank. "May I tell him you love me? Oh, I know you
cannot love me as I love you; but I may say you love me a little, may I
not?--that will go farther with him than anything else. May I, Rosa, may
I?--a little?"

His passion mastered her. She dropped her head sweetly on his shoulder,
and murmured, "You know you may, my own. Who would not love you?"

He parted lingeringly from her, then marched away, bold with love and
hope, to demand her hand in marriage.

Rosa leaned back in her chair, and quivered a little with new emotions.
Christopher was right; she was not capable of loving like him; but
still the actual contact of so strong a passion made her woman's nature
vibrate. A dewy tear hung on the fringes of her long lashes, and she
leaned back in her chair and fluttered awhile.

That emotion, almost new to her, soon yielded, in her girlish mind, to a
complacent languor; and that, in its turn, to a soft reverie. So she was