The House of Heine Brothers, in Munich | Page 7

but then is it not the destiny of man that life should slip away? Their wants were all satisfied, and for them, that, together with their close family affection, was happiness enough.
At last, however, Herbert so spoke, or so looked, that both Isa and her mother that his heart was touched. He still declared to himself that he had made no sign, and that he was an oaf, an ass, a coward, in that he had not done so. But he had made some sign, and the sign had been read. There was no secret,--no necessity for a secret on the subject between the mother and daughter, but yet it was not spoken of all at once. There was some little increase of caution between them as Herbert's name was mentioned, so that gradually each knew what the other thought; but for weeks, that was all. Then at last the mother spoke out.
"Isa," she said, "I think that Herbert Onslow is becoming attached to you."
"He has never said so, mamma."
"No; I am sure he has not. Had he done so, you would have told me. Nevertheless, is it not true?"
"Well, mamma, I cannot say. It may be so. Such an idea has occurred to me, but I have abandoned it as needless. If he has anything to say he will say it."
"And if he were to speak, how should you answer him?"
"I should take time to think. I do not at all know what means he has for a separate establishment." Then the subject was dropped between them for that time, and Isa, in her communications with her cousin, was somewhat more reserved than she had been.
"Isa, are you in love with Herbert?" Agnes asked her, as they were together in their room one night.
"In love with him? No; why should I be in love with him?"
"I think he is in love with you," said Agnes.
"That is quite another thing," said Isa, laughing. "But if so, he has not taken me into his confidence. Perhaps he has you."
"Oh no. He would not do that, I think. Not but what we are great friends, and I love him dearly. Would it not be nice for you and him to be betrothed?"
"That depends on many things, my dear."
"Oh yes, I know. Perhaps he has not got money enough. But you could live here, you know, and he has got some money, because he so often rides on horseback." And then the matter was dropped between the two sisters.
Herbert had given English lessons to the two girls, but the lessons had been found tedious, and had dwindled away. Isa, nevertheless, had kept up her exercises, duly translating German into English, and English into German; and occasionally she had shown them to her cousin. Now, however, she altogether gave over such showing of them, but, nevertheless, worked at the task with more energy than before.
"Isa," he said to her one day,--having with some difficulty found her alone in the parlour, "Isa, why should not we go on with our English?"
"Because it is troublesome,--to you I mean."
"Troublesome. Well; yes; it is troublesome. Nothing good is to be had without trouble. But I should like it if you would not mind."
"You know how sick you were of it before;--besides, I shall never be able to speak it."
"I shall not get sick of it now, Isa."
"Oh yes you would;--in two days."
"And I want you to speak it. I desire it especially."
"Why especially?" asked Isa. And even she, with all her tranquillity of demeanour, could hardly preserve her even tone and quiet look, as she asked the necessary question.
"I will tell you why," said Herbert; and as he spoke, he got up from his seat, and took a step or two over towards her, where she was sitting near the window. Isa, as she saw him, still continued her work, and strove hard to give to the stitches all that attention which they required. "I will tell you why I would wish you to talk my language. Because I love you, Isa, and would have you for my wife,--if that be possible."
She still continued her work, and the stitches, if not quite as perfect as usual, sufficed for their purpose.
"That is why I wish it. Now will you consent to learn from me again?"
"If I did, Herbert, that consent would include another."
"Yes; certainly it would. That is what I intend. And now will you learn from me again?"
"That is,--you mean to ask, will I marry you?"
"Will you love me? Can you learn to love me? Oh, Isa, I have thought of this so long! But you have seemed so cold that I have not dared to speak. Isa, can you love me?" And he sat himself close beside her. Now that the ice was broken, he was quite