She put aside her work, as she was used to do when we were seriously discussing anything; and gave me her whole attention.

“My dear Agnes, do you doubt my being true to you?”

“No!” she answered, with a look of astonishment.

“Do you doubt my being what I always have been to you?”

“No!” she answered, as before.

“Do you remember that I tried to tell you, when I came home, what a debt of gratitude I owed you, dearest Agnes, and how fervently I felt towards you?”

“I remember it,” she said, gently, “very well.”

“You have a secret,” said I. “Let me share it, Agnes.”

She cast down her eyes, and trembled.