"Oh, bless you! bless you! Ah, if I could only be sure of that, what wouldn't I do for her? But, if she loves me, why, why send me away? It is very cruel that so many should be in the same room with her, and HE should dance with her, and I must not even look on and catch a glimpse of her now and then. I won't go home."
"Ah!" said Jael, "you are like all the young men: you think only of yourself. And you call yourself a scholar of the good doctor's."
"Then why don't you go by his rule, and put yourself in a body's place? Suppose you was in her place, master of this house like, and dancing with a pack of girls you didn't care for, and SHE stood out here, pale and sighing; and suppose things were so that you couldn't come out to her, nor she come in to you, wouldn't it cut you to the heart to see her stand in the street and look so unhappy--poor lad? Be good, now, and go home to thy mother. Why stand here and poison the poor young lady's pleasure--such as 'tis--and torment thyself." Jael's own eyes filled, and that proof of sympathy inclined Henry all the more to listen to her reason.
"You are wise, and good, and kind," he said. "But oh, Jael, I adore her so, I'd rather be in hell with her than in heaven without her. Half a loaf is better than no bread. I can't go home and turn my back on the place where she is. Yes, I'm in torments; but I see. They can't rob my EYES of her."
"Yes; I'll do anything to oblige HER. If I could only believe she loves me."
"Put it to the proof, if you don't believe me."
"I will. Tell her I'd much rather stay all night, and catch a glimpse of her now and then; but yet, tell her I'll go home, if she will promise me not to dance with that Coventry again."
"There is a condition!" said Jael.