Thomas leaving
the room with a promise that Miss Bonner should be sent to fill his
place. In five minutes Miss Bonner was there. She entered the room
very slowly, with a countenance that was almost savage, and during
the few minutes that she remained there she did not sit down.

"Sir Thomas has told you why I am here?" he said, advancing towards
her, and taking her hand.

"No; that is;--no. He has not told me."

"Mary--"

"Mr. Newton, my name is Miss Bonner."

"And must it between us be so cold as that?" He still had her by the
hand, which she did not at the moment attempt to withdraw. "I have
come to tell you, at the first moment that was possible to me after
my uncle's death, that of all women in the world I love you the
best."

Then she withdrew her hand. "Mr. Newton, I am sorry to hear you say
so;--very sorry."

"Why should you be sorry? If you are unkind to me like this, there
may be reason why I should be sorry. I shall, indeed, be very sorry.
Since I first saw you, I have hoped that you would be my wife."

"I never can be your wife, Mr. Newton."

"Why not? Have I done anything to offend you? Being here as one of
the family you must know enough of my affairs to feel sure,--that I
have come to you the first moment that was possible. I did not dare
to come when I thought that my position was one that was not worthy
of you."

"It would have been the same at any time," said Mary.

"And why should you reject me,--like this; without a moment's
thought?"

"For two reasons," said Mary, slowly, and then she paused, as though
doubting whether she would continue her speech, or give the two
reasons which now guided her. But he stood, looking into her face,
waiting for them. "In the first place," she said, "I think you are
untrue to another person." Then she paused again, as though asking
herself whether that reason would not suffice. But she resolved that
she would be bold, and give the other. "In the next place, my heart
is not my own to give."

"Is it so?" asked Ralph.

"I have said as much as can be necessary,--perhaps more, and I would
rather go now." Then she left the room with the same slow, stately
step, and he saw her no more on that day.

Then in those short five minutes Sir Thomas had absolutely told
her the whole story about Polly Neefit, and she had come to the
conclusion that because in his trouble he had offered to marry a
tradesman's daughter, therefore he was to be debarred from ever
re