ns where I might
seem to be the gainer. I grant her beauty. She is very lovely. She
has succeeded."

"I have succeeded."

"But--I am justified, and you are condemned. Is it not so? Tell me
like a man."

"You are justified."

"And you are condemned? When you told me that I should be your wife,
and then told your father the same story, was I to think it all meant
nothing! Have you deceived me?"

"I did not mean it."

"Have you deceived me? What; you cannot deny it, and yet have not the
manliness to own it to a poor woman who can only save herself from
humiliation by extorting the truth from you!"

"Oh, Mabel, I am so sorry it should be so."

"I believe you are,--with a sorrow that will last till she is again
sitting close to you. Nor, Silverbridge, do I wish it to be longer.
No;--no;--no. Your fault after all has not been great. You deceived,
but did not mean to deceive me?"

"Never; never."

"And I fancy you have never known how much you bore about with
you. Your modesty has been so perfect that you have not thought of
yourself as more than other men. You have forgotten that you have had
in your hand the disposal to some one woman of a throne in Paradise."

"I don't suppose you thought of that."

"But I did. Why should I tell falsehoods now? I have determined that
you should know everything,--but I could better confess to you my own
sins when I had shown that you too have not been innocent. Not think
of it! Do not men think of high titles and great wealth and power
and place? And if men, why should not women? Do not men try to get
them;--and are they not even applauded for their energy? A woman has
but one way to try. I tried."

"I do not think it was all for that."

"How shall I answer that without a confession which even I am not
hardened enough to make? In truth, Silverbridge, I have never loved
you."

He drew himself up slowly before he answered her, and gradually
assumed a look very different from that easy boyish smile which was
customary to him. "I am glad of that," he said.

"Why are you glad?"

"Now I can have no regrets."

"You need have none. It was necessary to me that I should have my
little triumph;--that I should show you that I knew how far you had
wronged me! But now I wish that you should know everything. I have
never loved you."

"There is an end of it then."

"But I have liked you so well,--so much better than all others! A
dozen men have asked me to marry them. And thoug