ad never desired
that he should assume such attitude as this, she had constantly
been unconsciously wounded by his coldness,--by his cold propriety
and unbending self-possession. His cold propriety and unbending
self-possession were gone now, and he was there at her feet. Such an
argument, used at Aylmer Park, would have conquered her,--would have
won her at once, in spite of herself; but now she was minded to be
resolute. She had sworn to herself that she would not peril herself,
or him, by joining herself to a man with whom she had so little
sympathy, and who apparently had none with her. But in what way
was she to answer such a prayer as that which was now made to her?
The man who addressed her was entitled to use all the warmth of an
accepted lover. He only asked for that which had already been given
to him.

"Captain Aylmer--," she began.

"Why is it to be Captain Aylmer? What have I done that you should use
me in this way? It was not I who,--who,--made you unhappy at Aylmer
Park."

"I will not go back to that. It is of no use. Pray get up. It shocks
me to see you in this way."

"Tell me, then, that it is once more all right between us. Say that,
and I shall be happier than I ever was before;--yes, than I ever was
before. I know how much I love you now, how sore it would be to lose
you. I have been wrong. I had not thought enough of that, but I will
think of it now."

She found that the task before her was very difficult,--so difficult
that she almost broke down in performing it. It would have been so
easy and, for the moment, so pleasant to have yielded. He had his
hand upon her arm, having attempted to take her hand. In preventing
that she had succeeded, but she could not altogether make herself
free from him without rising. For a moment she had paused,--paused as
though she were about to yield. For a moment, as he looked into her
eyes, he had thought that he would again be victorious. Perhaps there
was something in his glance, some too visible return of triumph to
his eyes, which warned her of her danger. "No!" she said, getting up
and walking away from him; "no!"

"And what does 'no' mean, Clara?" Then he also rose, and stood
leaning on the table. "Does it mean that you will be forsworn?"

"It means this,--that I will not come between you and your mother;
that I will not be taken into a family in which I am scorned; that I
will not go to Aylmer Park myself or be the means of preventing you
from going