That was what made me cry, Mr.White, I was so vexed with myself," stoutly asserted Mercy, beginning to feel braver and more like herself.
Stephen looked her full in the face without speaking for a moment.

Then,-- "May I call you Mercy ?" he said.
"Yes," she replied.
"May I say to you exactly what I am thinking ?" "Yes," she replied again, a little more hesitatingly.
"Then, Mercy, this is what I want to say to you," said Stephen, earnestly.
"There is no reason why you and I should try to deceive each other or ourselves.

I care very, very much for you, and you care very much for me.
We have come very close to each other, and neither of our lives can ever be the same again.

What is in store for us in all this we cannot now see; but it is certain we are very much to each other." He spoke more and more slowly and earnestly; his eyes fixed on the distant horizon instead of on Mercy's face.

A deep sadness gradually gathered on his countenance, and his last words were spoken more in the tone of one who felt a new exaltation of suffering than of one who felt the new ecstasy of a lover.