“I have already proved to you my weakness. I will now prove my strength. It is better so, Alfred. If I have won your love, let me now command your esteem, or maintain what is left me of my own. Do not be angry with me if I insist upon it. I am resolute now to be worthy of you and of myself.” “Ah! you call this love?” said he bitterly. “If you ever loved, indeed, Margaret--” “If I ever loved--and have I given you no proofs?” she exclaimed in a burst of passion; “all the proofs that a woman can give, short of her blood; and that, Alfred Stevens--that too, I was prepared to give, had you not promptly assured me of your faith.” She drew a small dagger from her sleeve, and bared it beneath his glance. “Think you I brought this without an object? No! Alfred Stevens--know me better! I came here prepared to die, as well as a frail and erring woman could be prepared. You disarmed the dagger. You subdued the determination when you bid me live for you. In your faith, I am willing to live. I believe you, and am resolved to make myself worthy of your belief also. I have promised to be your wife, and here before Heaven, I swear to be your faithful wife; but, until then, you shall presume in no respect. Your lip shall not touch mine; your arms shall not embrace me; you shall see, dear Alfred, that, with my eyes once opened fully upon my own weakness, I have acquired the most certain strength.” “Give me the dagger,” he said. She hesitated. “You doubt me still?” “No, no!” she exclaimed, handing him the weapon--“no, no! I do not doubt you--I dare not. Doubt you, Alfred?--that were death, even without the dagger!” CHAPTER XXIX BULL-PUPS IN TRAINING. Alfred Stevens was sufficiently familiar with the sex to perceive that Margaret Cooper was resolved. There was that in her look and manner which convinced him that she was not now to be overcome. There was no effort or constraint in either her looks or language. The composure of assured strength was there. The discovery of her weakness, which he had so unexpectedly made, had rendered her vigilant. Suspecting herself--which women are not apt to do--she became watchful, not only of the approach of her lover, but of every emotion of her own soul; and it was with a degree of chagrin which he could scarcely refrain from showing, that he was compelled to forego, at least for the present, all his usual arts of seduction. Yet he knew not how to refrain. Never had Margaret Cooper seemed so lovely in his eyes, so commanding, so eloquent with beauty, as now, when remorse had touched her eyes with an unwonted shadow, and tears and nightwatching had subdued the richer bloom upon her cheek. Proud still, but pensive in her pride, she walked silently beside him, still brooding over thoughts which she would not willingly admit were doubts, and grasping every word of assurance that fell from his lips as if it had been some additional security.