"Margaret," said he, looking into her eyes, which met his with their open, straight look, expressive of the utmost good faith and reluctance to give pain, "Do you"--he was going to say--"love any one else?" But it seemed as if this question would be an insult to the pure serenity of those eyes. "Forgive me! I have been too abrupt. I am punished. Only let me hope. Give me the poor comfort of telling me you have never seen any one whom you could----" Again a pause. He could not end his sentence. Margaret reproached herself acutely as the cause of his distress.

'Margaret,' said he, looking into her eyes, which met his with their open, straight look. 'Do you' - he was going to say, 'love anyone else?' But it seemed as if this question would be an insult. 'Forgive me. I have been too abrupt. I am punished. Only let me hope. Tell me you have never seen anyone whom you could-' Again he could not end his sentence.
Margaret reproached herself as the cause of his distress. 