But this was associated in her mind with no idea of love.

If affection touched her at all, perhaps at this moment it went out where her pity--rather, her pride--first found play.

Perhaps Ralph seemed too high above her to inspire her love.

His brother's weaker, more womanly nature came closer within her range.
There was now a long silence between them.
"Rotha," said Ralph at length, "this will be my last night at the Moss; the last for a long time, at least--I didn't expect to be here to-night.

Can you promise one thing, my girl?
It won't be hard for you now--not very hard _now_." He paused.
"What is it, Ralph ?" said Rotha, in a voice of apprehension.
"Only that you won't leave the old house while my mother lives." Rotha dropped her head.