And as for him, he stood absolutely dazed for a moment, not daring to think what that involuntary action might mean.  He stepped forward, with a pale face and a bewildered air, and caught her hand.  Her face she sheltered with the other, and she was sobbing bitterly.

“Gertrude,” he said, “what is it?  What do you mean?”

The broken voice answered, though her face was turned aside,—­

“It is I who am miserable.”

“You who are miserable?”

She turned and looked fair into his face, with her eyes all wet, and beautiful, and piteous.

“Can’t you see?  Don’t you understand?” she said “Oh, my good friend! of all the men in the world, you are the very last I would bring trouble to.  And I cannot be a hypocrite with you.  I feared something of this; and now the misery is that I cannot say to you, ’Here, take my hand.  It is yours.  You have won your bride.’  I cannot do it.  If we were both differently situated, it might be otherwise—­”

“It might be otherwise!” he exclaimed, with a sudden wonder.  “Gertrude, what do you mean?  Situated?  Is it only that?  Look me in the face, now, and as you are a true woman tell me—­if we were both free from all situation—­if there were no difficulties—­nothing to be thought of—­could you give yourself to me?  Would you really become my wife—­you who have all the world flattering you?”

She dared not look him in the face.  There was something about the vehemence of his manner that almost terrified her.  But she answered bravely, in the sweet, low, trembling voice, and with downcast eyes,—­

“If I were to become the wife of any one, it is your wife I would like to be; and I have thought of it.  Oh, I cannot be a hypocrite with you when I see the misery I have brought you!  And I have thought of giving up all my present life, and all the wishes and dreams I have cherished, and going away and living the simple life of a woman.  And under whose guidance would I try that rather than yours?  You made me think.  But it is all a dream—­a fancy.  It is impossible.  It would only bring misery to you and to me—­”

“But why—­but why?” he eagerly exclaimed; and there was a new light in his face.  “Gertrude, if you can say so much, why not say all?  What are obstacles?  There can be none if you have the fiftieth part of the love for me that I have for you!  Obstacles!” And he laughed with a strange laugh.

She looked up in his face.

“And would it be so great a happiness for you?  That would make up for all the trouble I have brought you?” she said, wistfully; and his answer was to take both her hands in his, and there was such a joy in his heart that he could not speak at all.  But she only shook her head somewhat sadly, and withdrew her hands, and sat down again by the table.