As for poor Jack, he was driven wild by this, by the sadness of her sweet eyes, by the soft tenderness of her voice, by the virginal simplicity and sincerity which breathed out of her. Pamela stood by him with the consciousness that it was the supreme moment of her existence. She might have been going to die; such was the feeling in her heart. She _was_ going to die out of all the sweet hopes, all the dawning joys of her youth; she was going out into that black desert of life where the law was that if you liked any thing very much you must give it up. But before she went she had a right to open her heart, to hear him disclose his. Had it been possible that their love should have come to any thing, Pamela would have been shy and shamefaced; but that was not possible. But a minute was theirs, and the dark world gaped around to swallow them up from each other. Therefore the words flowed in a flood to Pamela’s lips. She had so many things to say to him--she wanted to tell him so much; and there was but this minute to include all. But her very composure--her tender solemnity--the pure little white martyr that she was, giving up what she most loved, gave to Jack a wilder thrill, a more headlong impulse. He grasped her two hands, he put his arm round her in a sudden passion. It seemed to him that he had no patience with her or any thing--that he must seize upon her and carry her away. “Pamela,” he cried, hoarsely, “it is of no use talking--you and I are not going to part like this. I don’t know any thing about heaven, and I don’t want to know--not just now. We are not going to part, I tell you. Your mother may say what she likes, but she can’t be so cruel as to take you from a man who loves you and can take care of you--and I will take care of you, by heaven! Nobody shall ever come between us. A fellow may think and think when he doesn’t know his own mind: and it’s easy for a girl like you to talk of the last time. I tell you it is not the last time--it is the first time. I don’t care a straw for any thing else in the world--not in comparison with you. Pamela, don’t cry; we are going to be together all our life.” “You say so because you have not thought about it,” said Pamela, with an ineffable smile; “and I have been thinking of it ever so long--ever so much. No; but I don’t say you are to go away, not yet. I want to have you as long as I can; I want to tell you so many things--every thing I have in my heart.” “And I will hear nothing,” said Jack--“nothing except that you and I belong to each other. That’s what you have got to say. Hush, child! do you think I am a child like you? Pamela, look here--I don’t know when it is to be, nor how it is to be, but you are going to be my wife.”