"
The hard, benumbed look in Ralph's face
thawed in the warmth of her presence, and her
words, though stern, touched a secret spring in
his heart. He made two or three vain attempts
to speak, then suddenly broke down, and cried:
"Bertha, Bertha, even if you scorn me, have
patience with me, and listen."
And he told her, in rapid, broken sentences,
how his love for her had grown from day to
day, until he could no longer master it; and
how, in an unguarded moment, when his pride
rose in fierce conflict against his love, he had
done this reckless deed of which he was now
heartily ashamed. The fervor of his words
touched her, for she felt that they were sincere.
Large mute tears trembled in her eyelashes as
she sat gazing tenderly at him, and in the depth
of her soul the wish awoke that she might have
been able to return this great and strong love
of his; for she felt that in this love lay the germ
of a new, of a stronger and better man. She
noticed, with a half-regretful pleasure, his
handsome figure, his delicately shaped hands, and the
noble cast of his features; an overwhelming
pity for him rose within her, and she began to
reproach herself for having spoken so harshly,
and, as she now thought, so unjustly. Perhaps
he read in her eyes the unspoken wish. He
seized her hand, and his words fell with a warm
and alluring cadence upon her ear.
"I shall not see you for a long time to come,
Bertha," said he, "but if, at the end of five or
six years your hand is still free, and I return
another man--a man to whom you could safely
intrust your happiness--would you then listen
to what I may have to say to you? For I promise,
by all that we both hold sacred--"
"No, no," interrupted she, hastily.
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