We had the place all to ourselves; for, as it was now early in the morning, most of the guests had already gone:--the indefatigables who remained were too busily engaged to mind us. They were making the most of the last waltz, which was protracted to an indefinite length. "Min, my darling,"--said I, after a brief pause, looking straight down into her honest, upturned face,--"will you promise to be my wife, or no?" "O-oh, Frank!" she murmured, bending her head down without another word. "Darling!"--I continued.--"You know full well that I love you; and I've thought, dearest, that you loved me a little?" "Hush! Do not speak so, dear Frank; you grieve me so," she said. "Have you forgotten all the past then, Min? Don't you remember last year, and all that happened then?"--I asked. "I remember, Frank," she whispered, rather than spoke. "And do you not love me still, darling?" I pleaded:--"Look up into my face, and let me see your eyes:--_they_ won't deceive me, I know!" But, the dear, grey eyes would not meet mine. "Oh, Min, my darling!" I asked again, pressing her closely to my heart, "will you not promise to be my wife? Sweet, I love you so!" "They are looking at us, Frank,"--was her rejoinder--"let us waltz on." We had some more turns, "Mabel" still dominant in the orchestra. O that air! I can hear it now, as I heard it then, ringing yet in my ears--as it will continue always to haunt me! When we stopped again, I repeated my question once more. I was determined to have an answer, good or bad. "Frank," she said, hurriedly, "I cannot say anything; I have promised:-- I have promised. Pray, do not ask me!" She spoke with great agitation. There was a tremor in her voice; and, I could see _now_ that the soft grey eyes, which were piteously turned to mine, were tearful and sad. I was mad, however, with love and grief, or I could not have resisted the mute entreaty I there read--to be silent. "Min," I went on to say, passionately, "you must now decide whether we are to meet again, or part for ever! You know how I love you now, have loved you ever since I first saw your darling face,--will love you until my heart ceases to beat! But, I cannot, oh! I cannot go on like this. The suspense is killing me:--anxiety and uncertainty are driving me mad! Tell me, Min--dear as you are to me, I ask it for the last time-- whether you will promise to be my wife? Only give me a grain of hope, that I may have something to look forward to; something to work for; some object in life? At present, I have nothing; and, my existence is a burden to me!" "Can we not be friends still, Frank?" she asked, sadly. "No, Min," I answered; "_I_ cannot promise any longer what I feel unable to perform. You must be everything to me or nothing! I would lay down my life for you, darling! Won't you give me some hope?" "Oh, Frank! do not torture me,"--she exclaimed, in a choking voice--"I have pledged my word, and I cannot break it."