possessing her would give a brightness to his life, and this
brightness was not altogether obscured by the idea that she had ever
thought that she had loved another person. As a woman she was as
lovable as before, though perhaps less admirable. At any rate he
wanted her, and now she seemed to be more within his reach than she
had been. "The week has passed by, Mary, and I suppose that now you
can give me an answer." Then she found that she was in his power. She
had told him her story, as though with the understanding that if he
would take her with her "fancy," she was ready to surrender herself.
"Am I not to have an answer now?"

"I suppose so."

"What is it to be?"

"If you wish for me, I will be yours."

"And you will cease to think of Mr Gordon?"

"I shall think of him; but not in a way that you would begrudge me."

"That will suffice. I know that you are honest, and I will not ask
you to forget him altogether. But there had better be no speaking of
him. It is well that he should be banished from your mind. And now,
dearest, dearest love, give me your hand." She put her hand at once
into his. "And a kiss." She just turned herself a little round, with
her eyes bent upon the ground. "Nay; there must be a kiss." Then he
bent over her, and just touched her cheek. "Mary, you are now all my
own." Yes;--she was now all his own, and she would do for him the
best in her power. He had not asked for her love, and she certainly
had not given it. She knew well how impossible it would be that she
should give him her love. "I know you are disturbed," he said. "I
wish also for a few minutes to think of it all." Then he turned away
from her, and went up the garden walk by himself.

She, slowly loitering, went into the house alone, and seated herself
by the open window in her bed-chamber. As she sat there she could see
him up the long walk, going and returning. As he went his hands were
folded behind his back, and she thought that he appeared older than
she had ever remarked him to be before. What did it signify? She had
undertaken her business in life, and the duties she thought would be
within her power. She was sure that she would be true to him, as far
as truth to his material interests was concerned. His comforts in
life should be her first care. If he trusted her at all, he should
not become poorer by reason of his confidence. And she would be
as tender to him as the circumstances would admit. She would not
begrudge hi