like to me yourself; whatever you say will not
anger me. Indeed, I know what you would say--and yet I love you. Oh,
I love you, Trichy--Trichy, I do love you so much! Don't turn away
from me!"

There was such a mixture in Mary's manner of tenderness and almost
ferocity, that poor Beatrice could hardly follow her. "Turn away from
you, Mary! no never; but this does make me unhappy."

"It is better that you should know it all, and then you will not be
led into fighting my battles again. You cannot fight them so that I
should win; I do love your brother; love him truly, fondly, tenderly.
I would wish to have him for my husband as you wish to have Mr
Oriel."

"But, Mary, you cannot marry him!"

"Why not?" said she, in a loud voice. "Why can I not marry him? If
the priest says a blessing over us, shall we not be married as well
as you and your husband?"

"But you know he cannot marry unless his wife shall have money."

"Money--money; and he is to sell himself for money? Oh, Trichy! do
not you talk about money. It is horrible. But, Trichy, I will grant
it--I cannot marry him; but still, I love him. He has a name, a place
in the world, and fortune, family, high blood, position, everything.
He has all this, and I have nothing. Of course I cannot marry him.
But yet I do love him."

"Are you engaged to him, Mary?"

"He is not engaged to me; but I am to him."

"Oh, Mary, that is impossible!"

"It is not impossible: it is the case--I am pledged to him; but he is
not pledged to me."

"But, Mary, don't look at me in that way. I do not quite understand
you. What is the good of your being engaged if you cannot marry him?"

"Good! there is no good. But can I help it, if I love him? Can I make
myself not love him by just wishing it? Oh, I would do it if I could.
But now you will understand why I shake my head when you talk of my
coming to your house. Your ways and my ways must be different."

Beatrice was startled, and, for a time, silenced. What Mary said of
the difference of their ways was quite true. Beatrice had dearly
loved her friend, and had thought of her with affection through all
this long period in which they had been separated; but she had given
her love and her thoughts on the understanding, as it were, that they
were in unison as to the impropriety of Frank's conduct.

She had always spoken, with a grave face, of Frank and his love as of
a great misfortune, even to Mary herself; and her pity for Mary had