Anyhow, he
knows that such things must be; and the more of a good man and a
gentleman he is, the less will he be pained that we should love one
another!"
"I am sure of that," I replied. "I am only afraid that he may never have
been in love himself, and does not know how it feels, and may think I
have forsaken him for you."
"Are you with him _always?_"
"No; I am sometimes a good deal alone. I can be alone as much as I like;
he always gives me perfect liberty. But I never before wanted to be alone
when I could be with him."
"But he _could_ live without you?"
"Yes, indeed!" I cried. "He would be a poor creature that could not live
without another!"
He said nothing, and I added, "He often goes out alone--sometimes in the
darkest nights."
"Then be sure he knows what love is.--But, if you would rather, I will
tell him."
"I could not have any one, even you, tell my uncle about me."
"You are right. When will you tell him?"
"I cannot be sure. I would go to him to-morrow, but I am afraid they will
not let me until he has got a little over this accident," I answered--and
told him what had happened. "It is dreadful to think how he must have
suffered," I said, "and how much more I should have thought about it but
for you! It tears my heart. Why wasn't it made bigger?"
"Perhaps that is just what is now being done with it!" he answered.
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