"Because it is in vain," replied the hypocrite; "my influence I have employed, but to no purpose. When my uncle offers me your hand according to the contract, I must take it, or refuse it. Can I, Rose, can I, feeling as I do towards you, choose the latter alternative? I have already urged him not to force us to such a choice.--I will do it again and again, if you but wish it. I will entreat, beseech him, to pause, to wait but till my return from the army. But he has so firmly determined to place our union beyond all doubt before I go, that I fear it will be useless. Some vague doubt, some superstitious fear, of what may take place from delay, seems to possess him; and my mother, I regret to say, encourages him to persevere in his resolution. Yet I will make every effort with both. Only but confide in me, Rose. Want of clear and straightforward confidence between us, has caused too much mischief already. Had you but told me your feelings towards me, had you but informed me of your old affection to another, I might have been grieved, I might have been angry, I might have given way to bursts of rage, it is true; but still, thought would have calmed all down; and much, much that is painful, would have been avoided. But of that no more.--Nay, do not weep,--I came to console, and not to grieve you.-Come, take the fresh air on the ramparts, before the trumpet sounds; and tell me what you would have me do, and I will do it.-I would fain see you use your liberty; for it has pained me to the heart to know the indignity that has been offered you. As we walk, you can speak freely to me; and if by any means I can work your peace, no effort of mine shall be wanting."