I am of a melancholy nature." "I am glad it has nothing to do with the secrets," said the young girl, quietly ignoring the last part of his speech.

"If it had, I could not help you at all.

Could I ?" That morning it had seemed an easy thing to wait even two years before giving him a sign, before dropping in his path the rose which she would not ask of him again.

The minutes seemed years now.

For she knew well enough what his trouble was, since yesterday; he loved her, and he thought it infinitely impossible, in his modesty, that she should ever stoop to him.