“I hoped, dear Karl, you would never speak of it again.  We have been so happy the last year!”—­

“O Dora!” interposed the young man in a voice of agony, “never say you are going to refuse me!  Happy! yes, I have been happy, because I have looked forward to this day, and thought it might be the beginning of a life to which this has been but the gray dawn before the sunrise.  You have been so kind to me, so frank and affectionate! and all the time you knew-oh! you must have known-what was in my heart.  Yes; and, if it had not been for this meddling parson’s visit”—­

“Hush, Karl!” interrupted Dora decisively.  “I will not have you unjust or ungenerous to a man far nobler and purer and wiser than either you or I. Mr. Brown’s visit has nothing to do with what I say to-day; nor did I know, as you think I did, that you would again ask me the question you asked a year ago.  I only remembered it, when, last week, you reminded me of the date; and I only let you speak to-day, because it is better for us both to say out all that is in our hearts, and then to let the matter rest.”

She, paused a moment, and recommenced in a lower and more tender voice:—­

“I am so sorry, Karl, to give you pain!  If the only trouble was that I don’t want to marry you, I wouldn’t mind saying no; for I love you very much:  only I don’t believe it is the way girls commonly love the men they marry.  But it wouldn’t be right.”

“Not right!  Oh! why not right, Dora?”

“Because it would spoil both of us.  You ask me to make any thing of you I like; but that is not the way.  It is you yourself that must make a man of yourself.  If I should try to do it, I should only make a puppet of you, and a conceited, tyrannical woman of myself.  It would not be good for me to rule as you want me to do; and surely no man would deliberately say it would be good for him to be ruled, and that by his wife.”

There was a touch of scorn in the tone of the last words; and Karl’s check flushed hotly, as he said,—­

“It’s hard that you should despise me for loving you so well that I am ready to forget pride and manly dignity, and every thing else, for the sake of it.”

“No; but, Karl, don’t you see yourself what an injury such a love must be to you?  Forget pride and manly dignity and self-respect do you say?  A true love, a good love, would make you cherish them as you never did before; would make you claim and hold every inch of manhood that is in you, so that you might feel yourself worthy of that love.  O, Karl! never again offer to put yourself under the foot of any woman, but wait till you meet one whom you can hold by the hand, and lead along, keeping equal step with yourself, and both pressing forward to a common goal.”

She turned her face upon him, all aglow with a noble enthusiasm far above the maiden bashfulness that but now had held it averted, and extended her hand, saying,—­