At that moment the door was opened, and there entered the actress herself, flushed with the evening’s triumph, and smiling a happy welcome to her friend. That first glimpse of her young and happy face settled the matter—there was no more doubt, no more regret, possible. And as it was not in the nature of the man to prepare his utterances, or use any discretion in choosing them, he at once went forward, took her hands in his, and looking into her face with a sad earnestness, uttered his complaint and prayer. "Annie, I cannot bear your going upon the stage any longer. It is a monstrous thing—a degradation—I cannot bear it. Listen to me, Annie, for your own dear sake; and tell me you will never go back to the theatre any more. You are my little sister, are you not? and you will do what is best for yourself and me, my dearest? How can I bear to hear the women talk of you—how can I bear to see the men stare at you?—and such men and such women, Annie! You do not know what they say and think of actresses—but not of you, Annie! I did not mean that—and so I beseech you, darling, to do what I ask you; will you not?" Her eyes fell. "And what would you have me do _afterwards_?" she asked, in a low voice. "Be my wife, Annie; there, I have told you! Look in my face, my dearest. You know I have loved you always; trust me now!" "Trust you!" she said, looking up with sweet wet eyes; "you know I trust you, Harry. Whom should I trust but you?" "And you say——" "I say I will do anything for you, Harry, except that—anything except that," she said, with a white, downcast face and trembling lips. "You have been too good to me, Harry; you have given me too much of your love and your kindness, for me to let you do such a thing. It is for your sake only I refuse. You remember when you said you would always be a brother to me; and I was thankful within my heart to hear you say that; and after having been my dear brother and my friend for all this time, do you think I would make such a poor return for all your love as to let you marry—an actress? I will leave the stage, if it will please you; I will lie down in my grave, if it will please you, and be happy enough if I knew you wished it. I will do anything for you, Harry; but not that—not that!" Wherewith he caught her in his arms, and kissed her—passionately, despairingly. "My angel, my dearest, are you mad, to talk in that way? Do you not see that the great favour would fall upon me only? Is there a woman in all England to be compared with you, my queen, my darling? What matters your being an actress to me? It is you, not the actress, whom I beg for a wife; and if you would see in what way I should ask you for so great a blessing—here at your feet I kneel, you an empress, and I your slave."