moment when she gave the rose with that new softness in her eyes, the shy color, the sweet "for my sake," came back with sudden vividness, contrasting sharply with the now averted face, the hand out-stretched to put him back, the shrinking figure: and in that instant's silence poor Charlie realized what he had lost; for a girl's first thought of love is as delicate a thing as the rosy morning-glory, that a breath of air can shatter. Only a hint of evil, only an hour's debasement for him, a moment's glimpse for her of the coarser pleasures men know, and the innocent heart, just opening to bless and to be blessed, closed again like a sensitive plant, and shut him out perhaps for ever.
The consciousness of this turned him pale with fear: for his love was deeper than she knew; and he proved this when he said in a tone so full of mingled pain and patience that it touched her to the heart,—
"You shall respect me if I can make you; and when I've earned it may I hope for something more?"
She looked up then, saw in his face the noble shame, the humble sort of courage, that shows repentance to be genuine, and gives promise of success, and, with a hopeful smile that was a cordial to him, answered heartily,—
"You may."
"Bless you for that! I'll make no promises, I'll ask for none: only trust me, Rose; and, while you treat me like a cousin, remember that no matter how
