should esteem a very dear privilege—an inestimable privilege, a comfort, a blessing. You shall come to me then. Caroline, do you refuse me? I hope you can love me?"
And with these two abrupt questions she stopped.
"Indeed, I do love you," was the reply. "I should like to live with you: but you are too kind."
"All I have," went on Mrs. Pryor, "I would leave to you: you should be provided for, but never again say I am too kind. You pierce my heart, child!"
"But, my dear madam—this generosity—I have no claim"
"Hush! you must not talk about it: there are some things we cannot bear to hear. Oh! it is late to begin, but I may yet live a few years: I can never wipe out the past, but perhaps a brief space in the future may yet be mine!"
Mrs. Pryor seemed deeply agitated: large tears trembled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Caroline kissed her, in her gentle caressing way, saying softly—
"I love you dearly. Don't cry."
But the lady's whole frame seemed shaken: she sat down, bent her head to her knee and wept aloud. Nothing could console her till the inward storm had had its way. At last the agony subsided of itself.
