‘You are, darling; and now you know how truly you are the light of Mr Aslatt’s life. He has no one to care for but you, and you alone can make him happy.’ ‘And I have really no claim upon him, am in no way related to him, as I thought! I knew I owed him much, but I had no idea to what extent I was indebted to him. But for his goodness, what should I be now? Oh, if I had only known this before! How ungrateful I have been to him, how wayward and perverse! Oh, Miss Bygrave, I cannot bear to think of it!’ ‘Do not trouble about that, dear,’ I said, trying to soothe her, for her agitation alarmed me; ‘it is all forgiven and forgotten by Mr Aslatt.’ ‘But I shall never forgive myself,’ she exclaimed passionately. ‘To think that I have been receiving everything from him for years, living upon his bounty, and yet making no return, evincing no gratitude, taking all his kindness as a matter of course, just because I imagined I was dear to him for my parents’ sake!’ ‘Nay; you are too hard upon yourself, dear Rose,’ I said gently. ‘To a certain extent you have been grateful to him; you have again and again acknowledged to me your sense of his goodness; and now that you know all, you will clearly _prove_ your gratitude, I have no doubt.’ ‘But how?’ exclaimed Rose. ‘How can I express—how can I shew my deep sense of all that I owe him?’ ‘In the first place, by getting well as soon as possible, and by letting him see that you once more take an interest in life. For his sake, I know you will strive to bear bravely a trial, the bitterness of which he fully appreciates. And Rose, I must beg you not to attempt to express to Mr Aslatt your sense of indebtedness. He feels a morbid shrinking from hearing such words from your lips, and has implored me—in case I ever revealed to you the secret of your early life, as I have been led to do this evening—to assure you that you are under no great obligation to him, for he considers that he has been fully repaid for what he has done for you, by the happiness your companionship has given him.’ ‘But I cannot bear to go on receiving so much from him, and yet give no expression to my gratitude,’ said Rose. ‘You cannot do otherwise,’ I replied; ‘unless you wish to make him very unhappy, and that would be a poor return for all his goodness. Do all you can to please him; be as bright and cheerful as possible; but do not, I beseech you, let him see that you labour under a sense of painful obligation to him.’ ‘I will act as you desire,’ said Rose. ‘But is there really no other way in which I can prove my gratitude?’ ‘Not at present,’ I replied. ‘But perhaps at some future time you may be able to give him what he will consider worth far more than all he has ever bestowed upon you; but it would not be acceptable to him if it proceeded only from the promptings of gratitude.’ ‘I do not understand you,’ said Rose, though her cheek flushed.