against either feeling.'

'No; I won't think of him so,' said Stephen. 'If I appear before him
some time hence as a man of established name, he will accept me--I know
he will. He is not a wicked man.'

'No, he is not wicked. But you say "some time hence," as if it were no
time. To you, among bustle and excitement, it will be comparatively
a short time, perhaps; oh, to me, it will be its real length trebled!
Every summer will be a year--autumn a year--winter a year! O Stephen!
and you may forget me!'

Forget: that was, and is, the real sting of waiting to fond-hearted
woman. The remark awoke in Stephen the converse fear. 'You, too, may be
persuaded to give me up, when time has made me fainter in your memory.
For, remember, your love for me must be nourished in secret; there will
be no long visits from me to support you. Circumstances will always tend
to obliterate me.'

'Stephen,' she said, filled with her own misgivings, and unheeding his
last words, 'there are beautiful women where you live--of course I know
there are--and they may win you away from me.' Her tears came visibly
as she drew a mental picture of his faithlessness. 'And it won't be your
fault,' she continued, looking into the candle with doleful eyes. 'No!
You will think that our family don't want you, and get to include me
with them. And there will be a vacancy in your heart, and some others
will be let in.'

'I could not, I would not. Elfie, do not be so full of forebodings.'

'Oh yes, they will,' she replied. 'And you will look at them, not caring
at first, and then you will look and be interested, and after a while
you will think, "Ah, they know all about city life, and assemblies, and
coteries, and the manners of the titled, and poor little Elfie, with all
the fuss that's made about her having me, doesn't know about anything
but a little house and a few cliffs and a space of sea, far away." And
then you'll be more interested in them, and they'll make you have them
instead of me, on purpose to be cruel to me because I am silly, and they
are clever and hate me. And I hate them, too; yes, I do!'

Her impulsive words had power to impress him at any rate with the
recognition of the uncertainty of all that is not accomplished. And,
worse than that general feeling, there of course remained the sadness
which arose from the special features of his own case. However remote a
desired issue may be, the mere fact of having entered the groove which
leads to