"Yes, Bertram, it is such a love; but yet you must not doubt me, you
must not think that this love which conceals itself from the eyes of
my father need therefore fear the light of the world. My father would,
perhaps, if he knew my secret, declare me unworthy of him; but never,
be assured, never would I commit any act unworthy of myself, and for
which I would have to blush. It is possible that not only my father
but the whole world would pronounce me guilty if it knew my love; but,
believe me, that in the consciousness of my rectitude I would have the
courage to brave the verdict of the whole world, provided that my own
heart acquitted me, and that I am guilty of no other crime than this
accidental one, which fate, and not my own will and trespass, imposes
on me. Love allows itself neither to be given nor taken, and when it
cannot command fortune, it can at least lighten misfortune. More I
cannot tell you, my brother, and what is the use of words? Only depend
on what I assure you, I will never be faithless to my honor nor my
love. You may think," continued she, proudly and passionately, "that
my love is a crime, but never that I could love unworthily, or that I
could bow my head under the disgrace of a dishonorable love."

She looked beautiful in her proud, flashing maidenhood; and Bertram
felt, as he looked on her handsome, glowing countenance, that he had
never loved her so sincerely, and at the same time so painfully, as at
this moment.

"Elise," said he, grasping her hand, "will you not have entire
confidence in your brother? Will you not tell me the name of your
lover?"

She shook her head earnestly. "Only God and my heart dare know it."