never knew a man more thoroughly in love than he is."

"I don't believe it," said Clarissa.

"Not believe it! Indeed you may, Clary. I have never seen her, but
from what he says of her I suppose her to be most beautiful."

"She is,--very beautiful." This was said with a strong emphasis.

"And why should you not believe it?"

"It will not be of the slightest use, Mr. Newton; and you may tell
him so. Though I suppose it is impossible to make a man believe
that."

"Are we both so unfortunate?" he asked.

The poor girl with her wounded love, and every feeling sore within
her, had not intended to say anything that should be cruel or
injurious to Gregory himself, and it was not till the words were
out of her mouth that she herself perceived their effect. "Oh, Mr.
Newton, I was only thinking of him," she said, innocently. "I only
meant that Ralph is one of those who always think they are to have
everything they want."

"I am not one of those, Clarissa. And yet I am one who seem never to
be tired of asking for that which is not to be given to me. I said to
myself when last I went from here that I would never ask again;--that
I would never trouble you any more." She was sitting with the book in
her hand, looking out into the gloom, and now she made no attempt to
answer him. "And yet you see here I am," he continued. She was still
silent, and her head was still turned away from him; but he could see
that tears were streaming down her cheeks. "I have not the power not
to come to you while yet there is a chance," he said. "I can live and
work without you, but I can have no life of my own. When I first saw
you I made a picture to myself of what my life might be, and I cannot
get that moved from before my eyes. I am sorry, however, that my
coming should make you weep."

"Oh, Mr. Newton, I am so wretched!" she said, turning round sharply
upon him. For a moment she had thought that she would tell him
everything, and then she checked herself, and remembered how
ill-placed such a confidence would be.

"What should make you wretched, dearest?"

"I do not know. I cannot tell. I sometimes think the world is bad
altogether, and that I had better die. People are so cruel and so
hard, and things are so wrong. But you may tell your brother that
he need not think of my cousin, Mary. Nothing ever would move her.
H--sh--. Here they are. Do not say that I was crying."

He was introduced to the beauty, and as the lights came, Clarissa