"No, no; you can not.Nobody can do anything in this case but myself.""You do not know.You do not know what love can accomplish when it sets itself to work with the ardor belonging to it.""Love! O, do not speak to me of that," she said, suddenly awaking to the drift of his words, and striving to withdraw her hand.
"No, but I must speak of it," he said with vehemence entirely foreign to his usual half-mocking philosophy."I must speak of it," he repeated with deepening tones."You surely can not be blind to the fact that I love you devotedly--absorbingly.Every day's intercourse must have shown you something of this, which you could not have mistaken.You must have seen this growing upon me continually, until now I have but few thoughts into which your image does not appear, to brighten and enhance them.Tell me now that hopes, dearer--infinitely dearer--than any I have ever before cherished, are to have the crown of fruition.""I can not--I can not," she sighed.
"What can you not? Can't you care for me at least a little?""I do; I care for you ever so much.I am not only grateful for all that you have been to me and done for me, but I have a feeling that goes beyond mere gratitude.But to say that I return the love you profess for me--that I even entertain any feeling resembling it--I can not, and certainly not at this time.""But you certainly do not love any one else?""O, I beg of you not to question me."
"I know I have no right to ask you such a question.I have no right to pry into any matter which you do not choose to reveal to me of your own free will and accord.But as all the mail of the hospital goes through my hands, I could not help noticing that in all the months that you have been here you have written to no man, nor received a letter from one.Upon this I have built my hopes that you were heartfree.""I can not talk of this, nor of anything now.I am so wrought up by many things that have happened--by my letter from home; by your unexpected declaration--that my poor brain is in a whirl, and Ican not think clearly and connectedly on any subject.Please do not press me any more now."The torrent of his passion was stayed by this appeal to his forbearance.He essayed to calm down his impetuous eagerness for a decision of his fate, and said penitently:
"I beg your pardon.I really forgot.I have so long sought an opportunity to speak to you upon this matter, and I have been so often balked at the last moment, that when a seeming chance came I was carried away with it, and in my selfish eagerness for my own happiness, I forgot your distress.Forgive me--do.""I have nothing to forgive," she said frankly, most touched by his tender consideration."You never allow me an occasion for forgiveness, or to do anything in any way to offset the favors you continually heap upon me.""Pay them all a thousand times over by giving me the least reason to hope.""I only wish I could--I only wish I dared.But I fear to say anything now.I can not trust myself.""But you will at least say something that will give me the basis of a hope," he persisted.
"Not now--not now," she said, giving him her hand, which he seized and kissed fervently, and withdrew from the room.
She bolted the door and gave herself up to the most intense thought.
Assignment to duty with an expedition took Dr.Denslow away the next morning, without his being able to see her.When he returned a week later, he found this letter lying on his desk:
MY VERY DEAR FRIEND: The declaration you honored me with making has been the subject of many hours of the most earnest consideration possible.I am certain that it si due to you and to the confession that you have made of your feelings, that I should in turn confess that I am deeply--what shall I say--INTERESTED in you? No; that is too prim and prudish a term.There is in you for me more than a mere attraction; I feel for you something deeper than even warm friendship.That you would make such a husband as I should cherish and honor, of whom I should be proud, and whose strong, kindly arms would be my secure support and protection until death claimed us, I have not the slightest doubt.But when I ask myself whether this is really love--the sacred, all-pervading passion which a woman should feel for the man to whom she gives herself, body and soul, I encounter the strongest doubts.These doubts have no reference to you--only to myself.I feel that it would be a degradation--a deep profanation--for me to give myself to you, without feeling in its entirety such a love as I have attempted to define.I have gone away from you because I want to consider this question and decide it with more calmness and impartiality than I can where Imeet you daily, and daily receive some kindness from your hands.
These and the magnetism of your presence are temptations which Ifear might swerve me from my ideal, and possibly lead to a mistake which we both might ever afterward have reason to regret.
I have, as you will be informed, accepted a detail to one of the hospitals at Nashville.Do not write me, except to tell me of a change in your postoffice address.I will not write you, unless Ihave something of special moment to tell you.Believe me, whatever may betide, at least your very sincere friend, Rachel Bond.
