A longer pause followed. It might be ungenerous to interject a note of pain into her first happiness, but it is human to cry out, to justify one's self, to call attention to the gift, when one has given a heart and a soul.
"If Cathcart can give you even a part of the fortune you will lose by marrying him, he is right to ask you. I could give you nothing. And so, although I have loved you for nineteen years, I could not ask you to descend from wealth to poverty with me."
"I shall not lose, perhaps, as much as you think by marrying an American," replied Constance to this, adjusting her draperies in the light of the fire, which played over her face. How bright, how smiling she was! Her dark eyes shone, and the faint dimple in her cheek kept coming and going. "I did not, of course, relish the thought of spending all my life alone," she continued, laughing shamelessly. "I was very young, you may remember. So I determined to save up all I could of my income. It was easy enough, living, as I did, with a person who was most of the time a helpless invalid. Then, my uncle, von Hesselt, realising the injustice done
