his spirits gone, and the sight of her beauty as
much lost upon him as if he had been born blind; could she
bear this, Ellen? Do you think she could? Would she not curse
the day of her birth, and the day of her marriage? Would she
not perhaps enter upon a course which would end in shame and
misery; or if her religion kept her from that, would she not
return to her poor people, to her flowers and her birds, with
a breaking heart and a wounded spirit? You are crying, Ellen?
Do not cry for _her_; she is calm and happy now, and I pray
God she may long remain so; but if you are grieving for me--if
you have ever felt the least affection for me, then cry on;
for God only knows how miserable I am!"

My tears were indeed falling fast; and it was with a voice,
hardly articulate, that I addressed to Henry the question
which for so many days had trembled on my lips, and never jet
found utterance.

"Why did you marry her?"

He looked at me steadily for a few moments, and then said,

"Ellen, the day will come when I shall answer that
question--and _another_, which you wish to ask--but cannot
find words or courage for. There is much that we must say to
each other--something, perhaps, that we may do for each other;
but then there must be no reserve, no coldness, no false pride,
or affected prudery in our intercourse. You must trust me
completely, as I will trust you; we have both of us secrets
which have weighed upon our souls, and made silence and
solitude dreadful to us. Judge then what I have suffered!
Ellen, I will tell you my secret--I know _yours_."

"Hush, hush!" I exclaimed wildly, and looked about me with
terror, but I saw we were alone; the people who were in the
room when we had entered it had all gradually withdrawn, and
the sound of music and of voices reached us faintly, where we
sat. I covered my face with my hands and murmured, "Speak on."

"Ellen," continued Henry, "Ellen, I have threatened, I have
tormented, I have tortured you; but each time I have done so I
have writhed myself under the sense of what I was doing; and
when you know _all_--when you know under what constraints,
with what hopes, with what fears, I have acted--"

He stopped suddenly short; I raised my head abruptly, and in
the door-way before us stood Sir Charles Wyndham and Edward
Middleton. Never in my life did I act from a more sudden
impulse than at that moment. I started forward, and in one
minute was at Edward's side. My cheeks were flu