. We never yet have been afraid of each other." Then
there was a pause. "Clary, has he said that,--he loves you?" There
was another pause. Clarissa thought it all over, and for a moment was
not quite certain whether any such sweet assurance had or had not
been given to her. Then she remembered his words;--"You know how
dearly I love you." But ought they to be sweet to her now? Had he
not so offended her that there could never be forgiveness? And if
no forgiveness, how then could his love be sweet to her? Patience
waited, and then repeated her question. "Tell me, Clary; what has he
said to you?"

"I don't know."

"Do you love him, Clary?"

"No. I hate him."

"Hate him, Clary? You did not use to hate him. You did not hate him
yesterday? You would not hate him without a cause. My darling, tell
me what it means! If you and I do not trust each other what will
the world be to us? There is no one else to whom we can tell our
troubles." Nevertheless Clarissa would not tell this trouble. "Why do
you say that you hate him?"

"I don't know why. Oh, dear Patty, why do you go on so? Yes; he did
say that he loved me;--there."

"And did that make you unhappy? It need not make you unhappy, though
you should refuse him. When his brother asked you to marry him, that
did not make you unhappy."

"Yes it did;--very."

"And is this the same?"

"No;--it is quite different."

"I am afraid, Clary, that Ralph Newton would not make a good husband.
He is extravagant and in debt, and papa would not like it."

"Then papa should not let him come here just as he pleases and
whenever he likes. It is papa's fault;--that is to say it would be if
there were anything in it."

"Is there nothing in it, Clary? What answer did you make when he told
you that he loved you?"

"You came, and I made no answer. I do so wish that you had come
before." She wanted to tell her sister everything but the one thing,
but was unable to do so because the one thing affected the other
things so vitally. As it was, Patience, finding that she could press
her questions no further, was altogether in the dark. That Ralph had
made a declaration of love to her sister she did know; but in what
manner Clarissa had received it she could not guess. She had hitherto
feared that Clary was too fond of the young man, but Clary would now
only say that she hated him. But the matter would soon be set at
rest. Ralph Newton would now, no doubt, go to their father. If Sir
Thomas