‘I did not mean legally. I meant morally, of course; the rights that love gives, Jerome—the right to my thoughts and wishes, and life and hopes.’ ‘You have the same rights over me,’ he said. ‘And yet you do not look afraid of me, you mean. It is different, Jerome. Not that I am really afraid of you,’ she added, looking up more confidently. ‘And you said something about the future,’ she went on, as her fingers played with the little locket and ring which hung at his watchguard. ‘Ah, about the future—yes. Will you trust me, and wait?’ ‘Through everything, Jerome, most implicitly,’ she replied, and this time there was no wavering in the glance which met his, full, open, and candid. ‘And would you prefer it to be kept quiet, or made known?’ he added; ‘because I wish to do exactly as you please in the matter.’ ‘Let us not mention it,’ she replied slowly, and with downcast eyes. ‘My friends are very few, Jerome. Let us have the comfort—you and Avice and me—of keeping it quite to ourselves. I hate to think of people speculating about it.’ ‘As you will. But suppose—how shall I put it? If it is imagined that you are free—Sara, you must know it is most improbable that no other man will ever wish to win you. Some one is sure to fall in love with you, and then——’ ‘It is most unlikely—most improbable,’ she began, with a deep flush. ‘That any other man in existence should have the bad taste to admire what I have found so perfect and so desirable,’ he said, sarcastically. ‘My life is so quiet. I go out so little. Now, with Avice as my companion, and you to think of, I shall go still less.’ ‘That is sophistry, Sara. Look at me, and tell me you honestly believe that, if you are supposed to be free, no man will ever care for you again?’ ‘You are cruel to press it so. If such a thing should happen, it will not be my fault, and I should know how to set him right on the subject,’ she said, proudly. ‘Well—so be it! And now, my love, it must be good-bye, for my time is growing very short. Stay!’ he added, and he unfastened from his watchguard a little ring which hung to it. ‘This was my mother’s betrothal ring. Take it from me, in token that you are mine, and I am yours.’ He slipped it upon her finger. It was a hoop of sapphires—the stones which are emblematic of steadfastness and faith, and it had been given by his father to his mother. With that he took her in his arms, and kissed her good-bye in a long, sorrowful kiss; then loosed her and took her to a chair. ‘Stay there,’ said he. ‘It will only make it worse if you come out. I will send Avice to you.’ He was gone. She knew nothing more until she felt another pair of arms about her neck, and heard Avice’s voice choked with tears: ‘He has gone! What shall I do? Oh Jerome, _mein_ Jerome!’ Then her own tears were loosened. The girls wept in one another’s arms, and were comforted. [Illustration] CHAPTER IX. ELLEN’S OPINION.