When Elmira came up-stairs after he had gone, Jerome, who had been reading in his room, opened his door and called her in.
"Look here, Elmira," said he, "I don't want you to think I don't want you to be happy.

I do." Elmira held out her arms towards him with an involuntary motion.

"Oh, Jerome!" she whispered.
The brother and sister had always been chary of caresses, but now Jerome drew Elmira close, pressed her little head against his shoulder, and let her cry there.
"Don't, Elmira," he said, at length, brokenly, smoothing her hair.
"You know brother wants you to be happy.

You are the only little sister he's got." "Oh, Jerome, I couldn't help it!" sobbed Elmira.
"Of course you couldn't," said Jerome.

"Don't cry--I'll work hard and save, and maybe I can get enough money to give you a house and furniture when you're married, then you won't be quite so beholden." "But you'll--get married yourself, Jerome," whispered Elmira, who had built a romance about her brother and Lucina after the night of the party.
"No, I shall never get married myself," said Jerome, "all my money is for my sister." He laughed, but that night after Elmira was fast asleep in her chamber across the way, he lay awake tasting to the fullest his own cup of bitterness from its contrast with another's sweet.
The longing to see Lucina, to have only the sight of her dear beautiful face to comfort him, grew as the weeks went on, but he would not yield to it.