I saw in her such
child-like purity of mind, such generosity of disposition, such
enchanting humanity of soul, that I could not but love her." "Yes, yes," gasped Arabella. "Yes." "Will you pardon me for saying all this to you?" "Oh yes. Go on--go on, unless you have said all?" "I have not." "Then, then you have only to add that you love her still?" "Yes, but--"

Arabella's heart beat painfully. "Ah," she said, "has true love any reservations? You love her, and yet
you have something else to say." "I have. I love her still. But it is not as I loved her. She has
convinced me of her constancy to her first affection, that--that--"

"Yes, yes." "That being so convinced, I now love her, but with that love a brother
might feel for a dear sister, and I almost think it was a kind of
preparation to try to awaken in the smouldering fires of her lost love a
new passion. She has made me feel that the love of woman once truly
awakened is an undying passion and can know no change--no extinction." "True. Oh, how true!" "I have learnt from her that when once the heart of a young and gentle
girl--one in whom there are no evil passions, no world-wise failings nor
earthly varieties--is touched by the holy flame of affection, it may
consume her being, but it never can be extinguished." Arabella burst into tears. "Love," added the colonel, "may be trodden down, but like truth it can
never be trodden out!" "Never! never!" sobbed Arabella. "Let me go now! Oh, sir, let me go home
now?" "One moment!" She trembled, but she sat still. "Only a moment, Arabella, while I tell you that man's love is different
from this. That man can reason upon his affections, and that when the
first beauty and excellence upon which he may cast his eyes is denied to
his arms, he can look for equal beauty--equal excellence--equal charms
of mind and person in another, and--"

Arabella tried to go, but somehow she felt spell-bound and could not
rise from that garden seat. "And," added the colonel, "with as pure a passion, man can make an idol
of her who can be his, as he approached her who could not.--Miss Wilmot,
I love you!" "Oh, no, no--Johanna." [Illustration: Colonel Jeffery Declares His Love For Arabella.] "I do not shrink from the pronunciation of that name; I have said that I
loved Johanna. If she had been fancy-free and would have looked upon me
with eyes of favour, I would have made her my wife; but such was not to
be, and for the same qualities that I loved her I love you. I am afraid
I have not explained my feelings well." "Oh, yes. That is, I don't know." "And now, Miss Wilmot, will you allow me to hope that what I have said
to you may not be all in vain? That--"

"No, no." "No?" "Allow me to go, now. My mind is too full of the fate of Johanna even to
permit me to reject in the language taught--"

"Reject?" "Yes," she said, "reject. I wish you all the happiness this world can
afford to you, Colonel Jeffery." "Then you will be mine?" "No, no, no. Farewell." She rose, and this time the colonel did not attempt to detain her. He
stepped back a pace or two, and bowed, and then rose and walked a pace
or two away. Then she turned, and holding out her hand, she cried--

"We may--may be friends." The colonel took the little hand in silence, but the expression of his
face was one of deep chagrin. "Good-bye," said Arabella. How courageous she had become all of a sudden, as it were. "And is this all?" said Jeffery. "Yes, all. When I see Johanna I will remember you to her." The colonel bowed again, as he replied--

"I shall be much beholden to you, Miss Wilmot, for that kindness." "And--and I hope you will find--find--that is, meet with some one,
who--who don't chance to know that your love is a kind of
second-hand--that is, I don't mean that, but a--a--Yes, that is all." Arabella was saying too much. The colonel replied gently--

"I am truly obliged for the highly explanatory speech just uttered by
Arabella Wilmot, whom I have the honour to wish a very good-day." Arabella trembled. "No, no. Not thus, Colonel Jeffery. We are friends, indeed." "Remarkable good acquaintances," said the colonel, as he walked away
towards Sir Richard Blunt and Ben. Arabella walked hastily on, having
but one idea at the moment, and that was to leave the garden, but she
could not find the gate, and Ben ran after her as well as he could,
calling--

"Miss A. W.--Miss A. W., where are you a-going? Don't you go yet. I'll
take care of you and see you all right, you know, or perhaps you'd like
to take a wherry here at the Temple stairs, and go to the Tower, and see
the animals fed?" "Yes, no--that is, anything," replied Arabella. "I will go home now, I
am so very--very wretched!" "What, wretched? Here, Colonel thingumy, she says she--"

"If you dare!" said Arabella, as she placed her hand upon the arm of
Ben. "If you dare!" "Lor!" said Ben, as he looked down from his altitude upon the frail and
beautiful young creature. "Lor! easy does it!" The voice of Ben, however, had brought both the colonel and Sir Richard
Blunt to the spot. During that brief time that had elapsed since the
colonel had last spoken to Arabella, Sir Richard had told him of the
perilous position of Johanna, and the look of anxiety upon his face was
most marked. Arabella heard him say--

"Make use of me in any way you please, Sir Richard. Regard my safety or
even my life as nothing compared to her preservation." Arabella knew what he meant. "Ben," she said, "will you come with me, and see me a part of my way
home?" "Yes, my dear, to be sure. Then you won't come and see the criturs fed
to-day, I supposes?" "No, no." "Very well. Easy does it. Come along, my dear--come along. Lord love
you! I'll take care of you. I should only like to see anybody look at
you while you are with me, my duck. Bless your little bits of twinkling
eyes!" "Thank you--thank you." "Lor! it's enough to make a fellow go mad in love, to see such criturs
as you, my dear; but whenever I thinks of such things, I says to
myself--'I'll just pop in and see Mother Oakley,' and that soon puts it
all out of my head, I can tell you." "Indeed?" "Yes. You should go in at feeding time some day, and see her a-coming it
strong with fried ingins." "Fried what?" "Ingins--ingins; round things. Ingions--ah! that's it." "Onions?" "Very like--very like. But come on, my dear--come on. Easy does it! Always remember that whenever you gets into any fix. Easy does it!" Did Arabella think the colonel would run after her and say something? Yes she did; but he came not. Did she think he would be loath to part
with her upon such terms as they had seemed to part? Yes, yes. Surely he
could not let her go without some kinder, softer, word that he had last
spoken to her? But he did. He only watched her with his eyes; and when
Sir Richard Blunt, who, it would appear, knew something of the colonel's
feelings, said to him--

"All right, I suppose, Colonel Jeffery?" He only shook his head. "What, anything amiss?" "She has rejected me!"