"Oh, pitiful Heaven!" she wailed, "how can I tell you the truth, my own Ronald?" He looked at her in wonder. "Lina, what is it?" he asked. "You will not refuse to marry me here and now--you cannot be so cruel. Think, love, you would have been my wife last night if all had gone well, and you cannot now refuse my prayer to make you mine in the moment of my suffering and sorrow. Think what a comfort it would be to me to have my own little wife for my patient, loving nurse--or perhaps that would be too great a burden for you, Lina?" "No, no; it would be too great a pleasure," she replied eagerly. "How could I think any task performed for you would be a burden, Ronald?" "Then you will marry me to-night, Lina, will you not, my darling?" She looked at the pale, handsome face, with its anxious eyes and winning smile, and her heart gave a great, suffocating throb of terrible pain. "Ronald, I cannot--to-night," she said, falteringly. "To-morrow, then?" he said. "That is too soon," she answered, looking away from him that he might not see the pain in her face. "We must defer it. Let us wait until you get well." An expression of the keenest disappointment came over the handsome face. "Lina, I thought you loved me better than that," he said, reproachfully. "What reason can there be for waiting so long?" "There is a very important reason," she replied, tremblingly. "Tell me what it is," said Ronald, half-laughing. He thought it was only some small feminine scruple he could easily overcome. She looked at him, hesitating strangely. She had moved a little way from him, and stood with her hand resting easily on the back of a chair, while her long lashes drooped and a crimson flush tinted her face. "Tell me what it is," he said again. "Is it that the pretty wedding-dress is ruined. Lina? Never mind that. The one you are wearing will do perfectly well." "It is a greater obstacle than that," she faltered; "but it may be overcome after awhile. Uncle says so, and Walter Earle--I have told him, too--says that it will all come right." "Lina, come here to my side and put both your hands in mine," said Ronald Valchester. She obeyed him, though she trembled like a leaf. "Now look straight into my eyes and let me see if you are quite sane," he said. She lifted her long lashes obediently and looked at him. He started as those dark eyes met his own. They were dim and heavy with almost intolerable anguish. "Oh, Heaven, my darling, what mystery is this?" he cried out, fearfully. "Lina, what has happened to part us?" She shivered, as though the very words hurt her. "It is only for a little while," she said, in a low and faltering tone. "Uncle Charlie has promised to do all he can for us. It is bitter to bear, Ronald, but it will all come right." "Lina, you drive me mad," he cried, hoarsely; and she saw that his face was pallid as death, and his eyes wild and frightened. "Go, my child, send Walter Earle to me. Perhaps he will tell me the truth."