let you go without coming to you," he said.

"It is very good of you. Yes;--I suppose we are going. Guatemala
sounds a long way off, Arthur, does it not? But they tell me it
is a beautiful country." She spoke with a cheerful voice, almost
as though she liked the idea of her journey; but he looked at her
with beseeching, anxious, sorrow-laden eyes. "After all, what is a
journey of a few weeks? Why should I not be as happy in Guatemala
as in London? As to friends, I do not know that it will make much
difference,--except papa."

"It seems to me to make a difference," said he.

"I never see anybody now,--neither your people, nor the Wharton
Whartons. Indeed, I see nobody. If it were not for papa I should be
glad to go. I am told that it is a charming country. I have not found
Manchester Square very charming. I am inclined to think that all the
world is very much alike, and that it does not matter very much where
one lives,--or, perhaps, what one does. But at any rate I am going,
and I am very glad to be able to say good-bye to you before I start."
All this she said rapidly, in a manner unlike herself. She was
forcing herself to speak so that she might save herself, if possible,
from breaking down in his presence.

"Of course I came when Mary told me."

"Yes;--she was here. Sir Alured did not come. I don't wonder at that,
however. And your mother was in town some time ago,--but I didn't
expect her to come. Why should they come? I don't know whether you
might not have better stayed away. Of course I am a Pariah now; but
Pariah as I am, I shall be as good as any one else in Guatemala. You
have seen Everett since he has been in town, perhaps?"

"Yes;--I have seen him."

"I hope they won't quarrel with Everett because of what I have done.
I have felt that more than all,--that both papa and he have suffered
because of it. Do you know, I think people are hard. They might have
thrown me off without being unkind to them. It is that that has
killed me, Arthur;--that they should have suffered." He sat looking
at her, not knowing how to interrupt her, or what to say. There was
much that he meant to say, but he did not know how to begin it, or
how to frame his words. "When I am gone, perhaps, it will be all
right," she continued. "When he told me that I was to go, that was my
comfort. I think I have taught myself to think nothing of myself, to
bear it all as a necessity, to put up with it, whatever it may be, as
men bear thirst