"
"What do you mean Amey?" he interrupted with solemn enquiry.
I fidgeted with the folds of my drapery, for another few seconds, and
then answered nervously:
"I hardly know, myself," then lifting up my eyes to his serious face
again, I said as frankly as I knew how. "You have not asked me,
Arthur, whether I have ever loved any one else before?"
He kept on, looking steadily at me, until his blue eyes seemed to have
penetrated the very farthest depths of my soul; then, he answered,
slowly, and with thrilling emphasis.
"You have loved Ernest Dalton, I know. Is there any one else?"
I dropped my lids instantly, and folded my hands tightly together, his
words went through and through me. I hardly knew what to say next, but
feeling that it was urgent upon me to speak in some way, I asked in a
subdued tone, with my eyes still lowered upon my folded hands,
"How do you know I loved Ernest Dalton?"
He laughed, not gaily, nor carelessly, and taking a stride across the
room, turned and said, "It is enough, that I know it, Amey. I don't
ask you to confide your past secrets to me--neither do I blame you for
having been attached to Dalton, he is a good fellow, and though I am
not half as worthy as he is, I presume to covet the same prize that he
does--our luck is in your hands!"
"Ernest Dalton has never spoken to me, of love or marriage," I put in
hastily.
"And Arthur Campbell has" said he, pausing in his rapid strides again,
and standing close beside me--"that should make some difference?"
"So it does, and I give him the preference!" I said, rising from my
seat, and extending my cold, nervous fingers towards him.
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