“Have I startled you, my darling, by this confession?” Geoffrey went on. “Have you never suspected how I have been growing to love you day by day? At first, as I told you, I regarded you in a brotherly way. I was delighted with your beauty, I was proud of your intellect. I loved and reverenced you for your goodness and gentleness to me, and your patience with me as an ignorant, simple-minded boy; but, as I grew older, a deeper, more sacred love took possession of me, until I came to realize that my future would be a miserable blank unless I could win your own heart’s best love. I do not forget that I am nameless, dear, that I am only a stray waif whom your father rescued from a hapless fate. I have nothing to offer you save my great love and an energy and resolution which will enable me to overcome every obstacle for your dear sake. Does your heart respond to my plea, my darling? Can you give me a deeper and holier love than that of a sister for a brother, and some day, when we are both through with our studies, when I can obtain a position worthy of your acceptance, become my cherished wife?” He reached out, took the hands that lay clasped upon her lap, and drew her gently toward him. She lifted her sweet face to him for one brief instant, and their glances met, soul answering to soul. “Geoffrey! you have fairly taken my breath away,” Gladys whispered, “and yet—and——” His clasp tightened about her hands. “‘And yet’—Gladys—what?” he breathed, eagerly. Her bright head drooped lower to hide the crimson in her cheeks, but there was no shrinking from him, as there must have been had not her heart responded to his appeal. “And yet, I know that you are far dearer to me than a brother could ever be,” she confessed. He dropped her hands, and the next moment his arms were around her. He drew her close to his wildly bounding heart and laid her head upon his breast. “My own darling! that means that you love me even as I love you! Oh, Gladys, how I have longed to hear this confession from your lips, and yet I have never dared to betray the affection that has become a part of my very life.” “Haven’t you, Geoff?” Gladys asked, a mischievous smile wreathing her red lips, which, however, he could not see. “No; for I felt that it would not be right to do so. I feared that Uncle August would feel that I had betrayed his confidence, and taken an unfair advantage of his kindness. Besides, it galled me to feel that I had nothing to offer you save my nameless self, without any definite expectations for the future.” “You imagine that you have been exceedingly circumspect, don’t you, dear?” and now a pair of merry eyes were raised to meet his. “Have I not? Have you suspected anything of this before, Gladys?” he asked, quickly, a vivid crimson suffusing his face. “I shall have to confess that I have—in a measure,” she replied. “When? What made you?”