"Do you think I doubt you?" she said. "Distinguished by me, could you waste a look on a person in _that_ rank of life?" She laughed softly, as if the mere idea of such a thing amused her. It was only for a moment: her thoughts took a new direction--they contemplated the uncertain future. "How is this to end?" she asked. "Dear Ernest, we are not in Paradise; we are in a hard cruel world which insists on distinctions in rank. To what unhappy destiny does the fascination which you exercise over me condemn us both?"She paused--took one of the white roses out of her bosom--touched it with her lips--and gave it to me.
