"

I was deeply grateful. It was all arranged without exciting my sister's
suspicions. She told her that for many reasons it had been considered
better to put off the marriage for some time; that I was going abroad
for a year, and that she was to spend the year with Lady Thesiger.

She looked wistfully at me.

"It's all very sudden, Edgar. Are you sure it is for the best?"

I steadied my voice and told her laughingly it was all for the best.

She asked where Coralie would be, and I told her that when she returned
from the visit she was paying she would remain at Crown Anstey.

There was not a dry eye among the servants when my sister was carried
from the home where she had been so happy. Of course, they all knew the
story--it had spread like wild fire all over the neighborhood--yet every
one understood how vitally important it was that it should be kept from
her.

Can I ever tell in words how kindly Lady Thesiger received her? True
friends, they took no note of altered fortunes. My sister was
comfortably installed in the charming rooms they had prepared for her.
Her favorite maid was to stay with her.

Then came the agony I had long known must come. I must give up Agatha.
How could I, who had not one shilling in my pocket, marry the daughter
of Sir John Thesiger, a girl, delicate and refined, who had been brought
up in all imaginable luxury? Let me work hard as I might, I could hardly
hope to make two hundred a year. In all honor and in all conscience I
was bound to give her up.

I had no prospect before me save that of returning to my former position
as clerk. Agatha Thesiger must never be a clerk's wife, she who could
marry any peer in the land!

Talk of waiting and hoping! I had nothing to hope for. The savings of my
whole life would not keep her, as she had been kept, for even one year.

I must give her up. Ah, my God! It was hard--so bitterly hard! I told
Sir John, and he looked wretched as myself.

"I see, I see. It is the only thing to be done. If I could give her a
fortune you should not lose her; but I cannot, and she must not come to
poverty."

Lady Thesiger wept bitterly over me.

"I foresaw it from the first," she said. "I knew it was not the loss of
Crown Anstey, but the loss of Agatha, that would be your sorest trial."

Then I said "good-by" to her whom I had hoped so soon to call my wife. I
kissed her white face and trembling hands for the last time.

But the dear soul clung to me, weep