better there; but it wouldn't take much even now to make me change my mind, and stay in England.” "I hope you won't.” "Why? Are you in such a hurry to get rid of me?" Mr. Trench's tone was slightly piqued. "Nonsense!" was all she condescended to answer. "I wish I were sure of its being nonsense," he said. "You've been wonderfully good to me, always listening to all my rubbish, and letting me bore you as long as I like, but I believe it will be a relief to you when I am gone." There was a real sadness in the voice, and it touched Evelyn. "You know very well it will not," she said; "but you hardly deserve I should answer you gravely." He made no answer for a few minutes, but puffed at his pipe and plucked the blades of grass. At last he said abruptly— "You will miss me, Eve, really?" "Most really," she said, earnestly and warmly. Her tone stirred something deeper, tenderer, more passionate in the young man's heart. With a sudden movement he drew nearer to her, looking up in her face as he spoke. "Eve," he said, "my Eve, won't you tell me to stay? I could do more, much more in England, with you by me, than I ever shall in Rome, wanting you. I want you so much nearer to me, as it is. Will you come?" "Roland!" Her tone was one of absolute surprise; then, as his meaning grew on her, a flood of crimson colour started to her face and the tears rushed up to her eyes. "Oh, Roland, you don't mean it!" "I have never meant anything before. Evelyn, can't you answer me?" There was almost a despairing cry in his voice. “I couldn't; I am so sorry, but I couldn't." "You could never care for me?" "I do care for you, but not in that way. I always have cared for you." "And you might grow to love me. I know I am not good enough for you, but, Eve, you might try." "Try to love!" a pitiful smile. Her lip quivered with "You cannot wish that, and I would not wrong you by it. I do not mean to marry; I am quite happy as I am, and papa could not do without me. Don't say any more, dear; it is only pain to us both." "And you never guessed I loved you?" "Never," said Evelyn, a flash of fun gleaming through her distress. "How could I, when you told me how much in love you were with the second Miss Burdoch." A moment more, and she repented her words, poor Roland's face was so dark as he said "You needn't laugh; it is worse than you can know." "I don't laugh," she answered earnestly. "You don't know how wretched I feel, or how guilty, but it would be worse to deceive you even than to hurt you. Oh, Roland, do forgive me!" she ended imploringly. They had both risen, and stood fronting one another. For all answer he bent and kissed her forehead with his hot lips, and then he had gone; and Evelyn gave a long sob, half of relief, half of pain. They were both very young, and had known each other all their lives. No |