s faltering
voice spoke those four last words. He tried to look at her -- but
she steadily refused him the opportunity: she kept her face
hidden over his shoulder. Was she in earnest? His cheek, still
wet with her tears, answered for her. There was a long pause of
silence; she waited -- with unaccustomed patience, she waited for
him to speak. He roused himself, and spoke these words only: "You
 me, Magdalen; you  me more than I can say."

At the altered tone of his voice -- altered to a quiet, fatherly
 -Magdalen's arms clung round him closer than before.

"Have I disappointed you, papa?" she asked, faintly. "Don't say I
have disappointed you! Who am I to tell my secret to, if not to
you? Don't let him go -- don't! don't! You will break his .
He is afraid to tell his father; he is even afraid _you_ might be
angry with him. There is nobody to speak for us, except -- except
me. Oh, don't let him go! Don't for his sake -- " she whispered
the next words in a kiss -- "Don'