ectra Grey, you are unwomanly in your unsought love."

"Unwomanly! If so, made such by your unmanliness. Unwomanly! Were you more
manly, I had never shocked your maudlin sentiments of propriety."

"And this is my reward for all the tenderness I have lavished on you. When
I stooped to beg your hand, to be repulsed with scorn and loathing. To
spend three years in faithful effort to win your heart, and reap ----
contempt, hatred."

Staggering back, he sank into his arm-chair and closed his eyes a moment,
then continued--

"I would not have troubled you long, Electra. It was because I knew that my
life must be short at best, that I urged you to gild the brief period with
the light of your love. I would not have bound you always to me; and when I
asked your hand a few minutes since, I knew that death would soon sever the
tie and set you free. Let this suffice to palliate my 'unmanly' pleading. I
have but one request to make of you now, and, weak as it may seem, I beg of
you not to deny me. You are preparing to leave my house; this I know; I see
it in your face, and the thought is harrowing to me. Electra, remain under
my roof while I live; let me see you every day, here, in my house. If not
as my wife, stay as my friend, my pupil, my child. I little thought I could
ever condescend to ask this of anyone; but the dread of separation bows me
down. Oh, child, I will not claim you long."

She stood up before him with the portrait in her arms, resolved then and
there to leave him for ever. But the ghastly pallor of his face, the
scarlet thread oozing over his lips and saturating the handkerchief with
which he strove to staunch it, told her that the request was preferred on
no idle pretext. In swift review, his kindness, generosity, and unwavering
affection passed before her, and the mingled accents of remorse and
compassion whispered: "Pay your debt of gratitude by sacrificing your
heart. If you can make him happy, you owe it to him."

Softly she took his hand, and said in a low, thrilling tone--

"Mr. Clifton, I was passionate and hasty, and said some unkind things which
I would fain recall, and for which I beg your pardon, I thank you for the
honour you would have conferred on me, and for the unmerited love you
offered me. Unless it were in my power to return that love, it would be
sinful to give you my hand; but, since you desire it so earnestly, I will
promise to stay by your side, to do what I can to make you happy; to p