He had put forth all his power in a passionate and convulsive effort to prevail over the soul of this delicate girl, and he had been worsted in the brief, silent struggle.

He did not need to look in her clear eyes to know it.
His love must have been strong, indeed; for it stood the test of the defeat.

He sat down again, and after an almost imperceptible hesitation, he held out his hand toward her.

She put her own in it, with its pressure, soft and delicately strong.
"I can't reason about these things--I can only feel," said he.

"You can look into my heart if you will.