'Do you hesitate?'

He felt the contrast between his own and hers; between the niggard spirit
of the beggarly receiver, and the high bloom of the exalted giver.
Nevertheless, he loved her too well not to share much of her nature, and
wedding it suddenly, he said:

'Rose; tell me, now. If you were to see the place where I was born,
could you love me still?'

'Yes, Evan.'

'If you were to hear me spoken of with contempt--'

'Who dares?' cried Rose. 'Never to me!'

'Contempt of what I spring from, Rose. Names used . . . Names are
used . . .'

'Tush!--names!' said Rose, reddening. 'How cowardly that is! Have you
finished? Oh, faint heart! I suppose I'm not a fair lady, or you
wouldn't have won me. Now, come. Remember, Evan, I conceal nothing; and
if anything makes you wretched here, do think how I love you.'

In his own firm belief he had said everything to arrest her in her
course, and been silenced by transcendent logic. She thought the same.

Rose made up to the conclave under the maple.