aspiring resolutions rendered apparent--ah, so many times!--to a gaping
and censorious world. For, as you are aware, I cannot offer her an untried
heart; 'tis somewhat worn by many barterings. But I know that this heart
beats with accentuation in her presence; and when I come to her some day
and clasp her in my arms, as I aspire to do, I trust that her lips may not
turn away from mine and that she may be more glad because I am so near and
that her stainless heart may sound an echoing chime. For, with a great and
troubled adoration, I love her as I have loved no other woman; and this
much, I submit, you cannot doubt."

"I?" said Lady Allonby, with extreme innocence. "La, how should I know?"

"Unless you are blind," Mr. Erwyn observed--"and I apprehend those spacious
shining eyes to be more keen than the tongue of a dowager,--you must have
seen of late that I have presumed to hope--to think--that she whom I love
so tenderly might deign to be the affectionate, the condescending friend
who would assist me to retrieve the indiscretions of my youth--"

The confusion of his utterance, his approach to positive agitation as he
waved his teaspoon, moved Lady Allonby. "It is true," she said, "that I
have not been wholly blind--"

"Anastasia," said Mr. Erwyn, with yet more feeling, "is not our friendship
of an age to justify sincerity?"

"Oh, bless me, you toad! but let us not talk of things that happened
under the Tudors. Well, I have not been unreasonably blind,--and I do not
object,--and I do not believe that Dorothy will prove obdurate."

"You render me the happiest of men," Mr. Erwyn stated, rapturously. "You