“Ah, Hesper!” he said, “I am glad that I have found you at last, for I have received a letter, saying that I must be in the city to-night, therefore, in the course of an hour or so, I shall be on my way.”
“O, I am so sorry!” said Hesper, with the instinctive utterance of an innocent heart. She let the violet wreath fall upon her lap, and gazed up at him as he leaned silently against a tree. The changing light and shadow which came through the green leaved boughs, played fitfully over his countenance. He held his hat in his hand, and had brushed back the masses of dark hair from his high pale brow. His eyes were turned from her, yet she could see in them a look of unutterable sorrow, and around his mouth a quivering expression of anguish, as though he felt obliged to compress his lips firmly, to keep back a rush of contending emotions. She could not behold that expression unmoved. Her kindly heart beat in sympathy, and her eyes filled with tears. He turned and looked at her one moment, and then threw himself upon the grass beside her.
“Hesper, my sweet sister,” he said, “I cannot leave you without telling you how much I have to thank you for--more than you can realize in yourself--nay, nay, do not shrink from me like a frightened dove. I am not quite an ice-berg, though oftentimes my cold exterior would make you think so. Circumstances have made me what I am, and given me this mask of formality, which I wear before the world, where curious eyes are ever ready to prey upon a bleeding heart, but before the never failing charity of your pure soul, I dare appear as I am. Not only must I thank you for your kindly services during my sickness, but also for saving me from an utter disbelief in woman’s truth and goodness, for when a man loses his faith in woman, the brightest star in the heaven of his existence is quenched. Had you intruded in the least upon my feelings--had you by word, or look, or sign, overstepped the boundary which my jealous soul had placed for you, I should have hated you. But no: it was not thus, for ever gentle, helpful and retiring, you manifested your sympathy for my stricken heart in the simplest, most unobtrusive way, and always conducted towards me with that cheerful, pure-hearted simplicity, which is the greatest charm of the true woman. From this and from what I have learned of your past history, you have shown me, that however much I may have been disappointed, yet my cherished ideal of woman is not altogether false, and so I go forth to the world again, with the faint hope in my heart, that somewhere on the face of the earth, I may find that ideal, and make it the altar for my yearning affections.”