Madge flushed crimson for a moment, and then taking Brian's two strong
hands in her own, looked steadily into his frowning face.
"Why don't you trust me?" she asked, in a quiet tone.
"It is not necessary that I should," he answered moodily. "The secret
that Rosanna Moore told me on her death-bed is nothing that would
benefit you to know."
"Is it about me?" she persisted.
"It is, and it is not," he answered, epigrammatically.
"I suppose that means that it is about a third person, and concerns
me," she said calmly, releasing his hands.
"Well, yes," impatiently striking his boot with his riding whip. "But
it is nothing that can harm you so long as you do not know it; but God
help you should anyone tell it to you, for it would embitter your
life."
"My life being so very sweet now," answered Madge, with a
slight sneer. "You are trying to put out a fire by pouring oil on it,
and what you say only makes me more determined to learn what it is."
"Madge, I implore you not to persist in this foolish curiosity," he
said, almost fiercely, "it will bring you only misery."
"If it concerns me I have a right to know it," she answered curtly.
"When I marry you how can we be happy together, with the shadow of a
secret between us?"
Brian rose, and leaned against the verandah post with a dark frown on
his face.
"Do you remember that verse of Browning's," he said, coolly--
'Where the apple reddens
Never pry,
Lest we lose our Edens,
Eve and I.
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