“Oh, pray don't ask me.” “I insist on knowing.” “I will not tell you. There it is.” She gave it to him with a guilty air, and hid her face. “Dear Zoe, suppose I were to repeat the offer I made here?” “I advise you not,” said she, all in a flurry. “Why?” “Because. Because--I might say 'Yes.'” “Well, then I'll take my chance once more. Zoe, will you try and love me?” “Try? I believe I do love you, or nearly. I think of you very often.” “Then you will do something to make me happy.” “Anything; everything.” “Will you marry me?” “Yes, that I will,” said Zoe, almost impetuously; “and then,” with a grand look of conscious beauty, “I can _make_ you forgive me.” Uxmoor, on this, caught her in his arms, and kissed her with such fire that she uttered a little stifled cry of alarm; but it was soon followed by a sigh of complacency, and she sunk, resistless, on his manly breast. So, after two sieges, he carried that fair citadel by assault. Then let not the manly heart despair, nor take a mere brace of “Noes” from any woman. Nothing short of three negatives is serious. They walked out in arm-in-arm and very close to each other; and he left her, solemnly engaged. Leaving this pair to the delights of courtship, and growing affection on Zoe's side--for a warm attachment of the noblest kind did grow, by degrees, out of her penitence, and esteem, and desire to repair her fault--I must now take up the other thread of this narrative, and apologize for having inverted the order of events; for it was, in reality, several days after this happy scene that Mademoiselle Klosking sent for Miss Gale. CHAPTER XXXII. VIZARD, then, with Ashmead, returned home in despair; and Zoe, now happy in her own mind, was all tenderness and sisterly consolation. They opened their hearts to each other, and she showed her wish to repay the debt she owed him. How far she might have succeeded, in time, will never be known. For he had hardly been home a week, when Miss Gale returned, all in black, and told him Severne was dead and buried. He was startled, and even shocked, remembering old times; but it was not in human nature he should be sorry. Not to be indecorously glad at so opportune an exit was all that could be expected from him. When she had given him the details, his first question was, “How did she bear it?” “She is terribly cut up--more than one would think possible; for she was ice and marble to him before he was hurt to death.” “Where is she?” “Gone to London. She will write to me, I suppose--poor dear. But one must give her time.” From that hour Vizard was in a state of excitement, hoping to hear from Ina Klosking, or about her; but unwilling, from delicacy, to hurry matters.