She knew that he did love that other girl,--and she must overcome
even that. And to do this she must prostrate herself at his feet,--
as, since the world began, it has been the man's province to
prostrate himself at the feet of the woman he loves.
To do this she must indeed bid adieu to the sweet bloom of her
maiden shame! But had she not done so already when, by the side
of the brook at Killancodlem, she had declared to him plainly
enough her despair at hearing that he loved that other girl?
Though she were to grovel at his feet she could not speak more
plainly than she had done then; but--though the chances were
small,--perchance she might tell it more effectually.
'Perhaps this will be our last walk,' she said. 'Come down to the
seat over the river.'
'Why should it be the last? You'll be here tomorrow.'
'There are so many slips in such things,' she said laughing. 'You
may get a letter from your constituents that will want all day to
answer. Or your father may have a political communication to make
to me. But at any rate come.
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