Will you confide _your_ happiness to me? I
don't know that I could make you as proud and happy as I should be
myself; but I should try very hard, out of gratitude as well as love. We
have also certain sentiments in common. That would be one bond more.
"But indeed I feel I cannot make my love a good bargain to you, for you
are peerless, and deserve a much better lot in every way than I can
offer. I can only kneel to you and say, 'Zoe Vizard, if your heart is
your own to give, pray be my lover, my queen, my wife.'
"Your faithful servant and devoted admirer,
UXMOOR."
"Poor fellow!" said Zoe, and her eyes filled. She sat quite quiet, with
the letter open in her hand. She looked at it, and murmured, "A pearl is
offered me here: wealth, title, all that some women sigh for, and--what I
value above all--a noble nature, a true heart, and a soul above all
meanness. No; Uxmoor will never tell a falsehood. He _could_ not."
She sighed deeply, and closed her eyes. All was still. The light was
faint; yet she closed her eyes, like a true woman, to see the future
clearer.
Then, in the sober and deep calm, there seemed to be faint peeps of
coming things: It appeared a troubled sea, and Uxmoor's strong hand
stretched out to rescue her.
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