e of herself. He was in danger, and how could
she protect him? Why here in the letter was the answer! "If you care for
him sever all connection with him utterly, and for ever. Otherwise, he
will live to curse and hate you." No, no! Geoffrey would never do that.
But Lady Honoria was quite right; in his interest, for his sake, she
must sever all connection with him--sever it utterly and for ever. But
how--how?

She thrust the letter into her dress--a viper would have been a more
welcome guest--and opened Geoffrey's.

It told the same tale, but offered a different solution. The tears
started to her eyes as she read his offer to take her to him for
good and all, and go away with her to begin life afresh. It seemed a
wonderful thing to Beatrice that he should be willing to sacrifice
so much upon such a worthless altar as her love--a wonderful and most
generous thing. She pressed the senseless paper to her heart, then
kissed it again and again. But she never thought of yielding to this
great temptation, never for one second. He prayed her to come, but that
she would not do while her will remained. What, _she_ bring Geoffrey
to ruin? No, she had rather starve in the streets or perish by slow
torture. How could he ever think that she would consent to such a
scheme? Indeed she never would; she had brought enough trouble on him
already. But oh, she blessed him for that letter. How deeply must he
love her when he could offer to do this for her sake!

Hark! the children were waiting; she must go and teach. The letter,
Geoffrey's dear letter, could be answered in the afternoon. So she
thrust it in her breast with the other, but closer to her heart, and
went.

That afternoon as Mr. Granger, in a happy frame of mind--for were not
his debts paid, and had he not found a most convenient way of providing
against future embarrassment?--was engaged peaceably in contemplating
his stock over the gate of his little farm buildings, he was much
astonished suddenly to discover Owen Davies at his elbow.

"How do you do, Mr. Davies?" he said; "how quietly you must have come."

"Yes," answered Owen absently. "The fact is, I have followed you because
I want to speak to you alone--quite alone."

"Indeed, Mr. Davies--well, I am at your service. What is wrong? You
don't look very well."

"Oh, I am quite well, thank you. I never was better; and there's nothing
wrong, nothing at all. Everything is going to be bright now, I know that
full sur