She paused awhile and answered: “Suppose that the positions were reversed, Ernest; at least, suppose this: suppose that you had loved your Eva all your life, but she had not loved you except as a brother, having given her heart to some other man, who was, say, married to somebody else, or in some way separated from her. Well, supposing that this man died, and that one day Eva came to you and said, ‘Ernest, my dear, I cannot love you as I loved him who has gone, and whom I one day hope to rejoin in heaven; but if you wish it, and it will make you the happier, I will be your true and tender wife.’ What should you answer her, Ernest?” “Answer? why, I suppose that I should take her at her word and be thankful. Yes, I think that I should take her at her word.” “And so, dear Ernest, do I take you at your word; for as it is with you about Eva, so it is with me about you. As a child I loved you; ever since I have been a woman I have loved you more and more, even through all those cold years of absence. And when you came back, ah, then it was to me as it would be to you if you suddenly once more saw the light of day. Ernest, my beloved, you are all my life to me, and I take you at your word, my dear. I will be your wife.” He stretched out his arms, found her, drew her to him, and kissed her on the lips. “Doll, I don’t deserve that you should love me so; it makes me feel ashamed that I have not more to give you in return.” “Ernest, you will give me all you can; I mean to make you grow very fond of me. Perhaps one day you will give me everything.” He hesitated a little while before he spoke again. “Doll,” he said, “you are quite sure that you do not mind about Eva?” “My dear Ernest, I accept Eva as a fact, and make the best of her, just as I should if I wanted to marry a man with a monomania that he was Henry VIII.” “Doll, you know I call her my evil destiny. The fact is, I am afraid of her; she overpowers my reason. Well, now, Doll, what I am driving at is this: supposing—not that I think she will—that she were to crop up again, and take it into her head to try and make a fool of me! She _might_ succeed, Doll.” “Ernest, will you promise me something on your honour?” “Yes, dear.” “Promise me that you will hide from me nothing that passes between Eva and yourself, if anything ever should pass, and that in this matter you will always consider me not in the light of a wife, but of a trusted friend.” “Why do you ask me to promise that?” “Because then I shall, I hope, be able to keep you both out of trouble. You are not fit to look after yourselves, either of you.”