"It is true
that I have dwelt upon Ernest Dalton's memory with a glowing, girlish
enthusiasm. I have thought of him by day and by night. I have fancied
my love returned, and imagined how happy we could be together. I have
watched him with jealous eyes as he came and went, in and out of our
circles at home. I have wished him near me, when I was desolate and
miserable, and could endure no one else--but now, I would not have
things different from what they are: all that can be a finished,
sealed irrevocable past to you and me. I will marry you, if you are
satisfied with my disposition; I will devote my whole life to your
happiness, Arthur, and if I can help it you shall never have cause to
reproach me, or regret the step you have taken. If you love me, you
will not find it hard to trust me enough, even for this!"
"Amey, that is all I want to hear--you have spoken openly and
honourably, you have done me the fullest justice I could ask. I
believe your simple, earnest promises, I could not do otherwise, it
would kill me to doubt you now. I shall go back to my toil with a
lighter heart than I have had for many a day."
He left for home on the following morning, and as he rolled out of the
depot of our little town I sat alone by the fireside, where,
yesterday, I had pledged myself to him, twisting and turning a
sparkling diamond upon my finger. It was a handsome seal of our
plighted loves; inside, on the smooth round gold, the words "Arthur
and Amey" with the date of the month and year were neatly inscribed.
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